


And Days of Auld Lang Syne

by chazpure



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Threesome, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-30
Updated: 2011-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chazpure/pseuds/chazpure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Regulus died, Severus began receiving letters from a mysterious "friend" at random intervals. Oddly enough, he also began running into Remus Lupin at similarly random intervals. As the world falls to pieces around them, can Severus trust words on parchment, or a werewolf's motives?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Scribbulus_Ink, for the 2008 Snupin Santa Exchange

* * *

_  
**June, 1977**   
_

 

The clackety-clackety-clackety-clack of the wheels on the Hogwarts Express had lulled some of his Housemates to sleep, but for Regulus Black, their insistent drumming echoed the pounding of his heart, the pulse of blood in his temples, and the aching throbbing in his loins. He shifted irritably on the padded seat and leaned his head against the partition, staring out the window into the corridor after that tall, sour-faced miserable, absolutely maddeningly desirable Severus Snape.

Merlin! He was mad. He had to be.

From his first day at Hogwarts, when he had taken his rightful place at the Slytherin table, he had looked down the ranks of his new Housemates and into the dark, glittering eyes of a thin-faced, glowering Second Year, and he had been lost.

His pride was the only thing that had kept him from following Severus around like a puppy for the next five years, but he had done everything else he could think of to make friends with the boy, and there had been enough pointed comments and sniggers when people thought he wasn't paying attention to let him know that his efforts were painfully obvious to anyone who cared to notice.

Severus hadn't noticed. Not really.

Oh, they were friends, to the extent that Severus allowed anyone to be his friend. They often studied together, Regulus helping Severus with Charms, (where Regulus was so far ahead that Professor Flitwick had advanced him to the next year), in exchange for tutoring in Potions, where he often struggled. Regulus commiserated with Severus over the heinous behaviour of his own brother and the rest of that pack of rowdy Gryffindors and offered occasional tips on Sirius's weaknesses. They holed up in the library together on rainy weekend afternoons and read, or sometimes just talked about school or quidditch - or really, any subject under the sun.

It should have been enough. It certainly seemed to be enough for Severus. But the odd attraction that had compelled Regulus to make a friend of him to begin with took a swift turn around the middle of Regulus's fourth year, and he had lurched in an inelegant and altogether disconcerting fashion from being Severus's friend and enjoying his company to being hyper-aware of Severus's every move and word, and finding himself alternately shaking like a leaf or leaping to mortifyingly painful arousal at the most casual, incidental brush of Severus's long fingers against his hand.

He'd tried to get it to stop. He knew all too well what his mum would say if she were to find out - her screeds against inverts were only slightly less notorious than her rants against Mudbloods and blood traitors. To have her son - her _only_ son, now that Sirius had been disowned - express an interest in a wizard - _any_ wizard, much less the gawky half-blood son of a Prince - would probably kill her. So he'd spent hours in the library, searching for some kind of charm or potion that would take away the feelings and leave him in peace, but to no avail. He'd found potions to damp lust or raise it, charms to instil vigour and others to guarantee fidelity, and one particularly scary formula from a Dark Arts text that could change a person's gender, but nothing that promised to make him un-love Severus Snape.

The past year and a half had been purest torture.

Now he watched Severus lounging against the side of the train, staring down the corridor after Sirius's band of troublemakers. There was an odd look on his face, mingled loathing and longing. Regulus felt his guts twist as Severus clenched his fist and rubbed it against his face, clearly fighting his own feelings. It would be Lupin, most likely, Regulus thought. Evans had been scrupulously avoiding Severus ever since that big row they'd had, and Potter or Sirius would have had Severus fuming, but hardly conflicted. Lupin stirred something in Severus, and Regulus wanted nothing more than to rip the mealy-mouthed Prefect's face off, every time he saw Severus look in that direction.

Severus slid his hand down and bit on his knuckles, breathing heavily. Regulus felt his prick swelling, throbbing at the confines of his trousers and tenting out his robes. He muttered darkly and pressed it down, but that didn't help matters any. He winced and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will himself to calmness, but his traitorous flesh would have none of it. He slipped his hand into his robes, hesitated only a moment, and then began to rub himself through his trousers. He bit his lower lip and kept his eyes screwed tightly shut, trying to bring himself to release as quickly as possible, before someone in the compartment woke up. He didn't have to bother with a fantasy; the image of Severus, standing in the corridor, biting on his knuckles and lusting after another wizard was blazoned on his brain. He rubbed harder, faster, felt his bollocks tighten --

There was a noise - his eyes flew open and he saw Severus staring down at him through the window.

He froze, but Severus just kept staring at him. Regulus took a deep breath and got to his feet, pulse still hammering in time to the racing wheels. His eyes were locked on Severus's as he slid the door open, and neither of them blinked. He stepped forward, surprising himself, and Severus stepped back, bumping against the outer wall.

"I..." he began hoarsely, "I saw--"

Regulus stepped forward again, until mere inches separated them. "What did you see, Severus?" he asked, lust and bitterness and rising hysteria all swirling together. "Did you see _me,_ for once? Not Evans, or Lupin, or Avery, or anyone else - _**me?"**_ His hand shot out and grabbed Severus's fist, pulling it down and pressing it to his crotch, where his prick was still waiting for release.

Severus's eyes widened momentarily - then he jerked his hand free, grabbed Regulus's wrist and stormed down the corridor, dragging Regulus along behind him. They came to the WC at the end of the corridor, where a Third Year Ravenclaw was just leaving. "Out!" Severus barked, yanking the boy out by his collar and practically flinging him past them. Severus threw the door back, jerked Regulus forward and slammed the door shut behind them. He muttered locking and silencing spells, then turned to look at Regulus again.

"All right. You have my full attention. Now, what's this nonsense?"

Regulus bit his lip, fighting back tears and rage. Merlin, would Severus never see him as anything but a tagalong Firstie? He wanted to...to hex him, pound him, kiss him... He took a calming breath to answer, but as he looked up at Severus, he noticed a bright flush on the normally pale cheeks, and a faint bloom of sweat dampening his lank hair. Severus was faintly trembling, and his nostrils flared as Regulus leaned toward him. Hope swelled, along with his neglected erection. Regulus reached up and cupped Severus's face in his hands. "It's not nonsense," he said, kissing him.

Severus stood still for an instant, his lips stiff and unresponsive, then suddenly his hands were on Regulus's shoulders and he was kissing back, his mouth insistent, demanding. They clung together and nearly toppled off their feet into the bog as the train went around a bend, but they fetched up against the wall of the tiny loo and Severus was kissing him, oh, God, yes! Their tongues slid over each other, sloppy and wet and driving Regulus mad. He scrabbled at Severus's robes, as Severus pressed him back against the wall, biting at his lips and sucking them hard. Regulus groaned and got his hands inside the worn robes, gripped Severus's lean hips and pulled him forward, until the hard swelling beneath Severus's trousers pressed against his own aching need.

Severus shuddered. Regulus pushed his hips forward, rubbing hard against him and nearly sobbing with relief at the exquisite friction. Severus let his lower lip slip free and bent his head to lick and bite at Regulus's jaw and throat. "Yes!" Regulus gasped. His robes were open and Severus's hands ran down his chest. He bucked, still clinging to Severus's arse, and felt one strong, thin hand slide between them and thrust into his waistband. There was a muttered spell or curse - it didn't matter much which - a wriggling sensation, and his flies slithered open, and suddenly there was hot, hard, _wonderful_ flesh pressing against his own.

Severus made a sound - pleasure or pleading, possibly both - and Regulus wrapped his arms around him and thrust forward, sliding his prick against Severus's, a long, sweet, slick slide from root to head, down and back again. "Yes," he hissed again, softly, "like that! Severus!"

Severus got his hand around them both, long fingers wrapped around, holding their pricks together, stroking as they thrust their hips together, over and over. He bit down on Regulus's shoulder and shuddered again, and blood-warm wetness spurted between them, slicking their pricks and Severus's hand as he kept stroking. Regulus gasped and thrust harder, faster, sliding back and forth against Severus's prick and fingers and the slippery come that coated them. Severus gripped him tighter and pressed so hard against him that neither of them could move. Regulus gasped and came, clutching Severus as the world vanished in a shower of stars.

 

* * *

 

When he could breathe and see again, Regulus found himself slumped back against the wall, sticky and dishevelled. Severus was leaning back against the door, looking rumpled and a bit flushed, but reasonably presentable. Regulus swallowed, straightened up, washed his hands at the tiny basin, then drew his wand and tidied himself up. He finally turned back to Severus and looked at him expectantly.

"Your family will kill me," Severus said quietly. His tone was neither guilt-stricken nor fearful, simply factual.

"They'll--" Regulus started, but Severus cut him off with a shake of his head.

"They wouldn't tolerate you going with a half-blood witch, let alone a wizard," he said flatly. "It's not going to work, Regulus."

"They won't have to know!" Regulus declared. "We can be--"

"What? Careful? You think that brother of yours won't find out and run to tell your mum?" Severus shook his head. "He'd love to set your people against me - and all the better if he can take you down as well!"

Regulus laughed, a bit hysterically. "Sirius? Merlin, Severus! He'd never go to them about anything - and Mum would never listen! Hell, the elves wouldn't let him in the door! He's been disowned!" He grasped Severus's forearms and forced him to look at him. "We'll have to be...discreet, at least until I've left school, but then my life's my own. Please, Severus? I...I want to be with you. I've wanted to be with you since I was a snot-nosed Firstie, since before I knew _why_ I wanted it! Please..."

Severus's coal-black eyes softened just a bit. "Discreet, is it? You think we can manage that?" he looked around and arched an eyebrow at their surroundings. "Pretty big talk for someone who's just had it off in a public loo."

Regulus smiled. "I can do anything, for you."

Severus reached out a hand tentatively and brushed a lock of Regulus's hair back behind one ear. "Well...we've the summer to get through, first. Ask me again in September, and we'll see."

"September's a long time away!" Regulus protested.

"And your majority's even farther away," Severus said. "Want to get me sent up for corrupting the youth of the Wizarding World? Or have your da geld me?"

Regulus grinned impudently and cupped Severus's crotch. "Definitely not! I like these right where they are!" He squeezed briefly and smirked, "Of course, I can think of some places I'd like them a lot better..."

Severus snorted and pushed him back with a careless hand. "September," he said. "You'll probably change your mind before you get unpacked--" he held up a hand to forestall protests, "but if you haven't, we'll see what happens in September."

 

* * *

 

 **  
_September, 1979_   
**

 

Regulus rolled over and stretched luxuriously. The milky grey light of dawn was just beginning to brighten the room, but it was enough for him to see that Severus was still fast asleep. His long, lank, black hair covered most of his thin face, but Regulus could see his eyes were closed, long black lashes still against his pale skin. Regulus slipped out of bed and pulled on a robe. A quick spell set the kettle to steaming on the hob, and in a few moments he had tea steeping in the old, cracked pot that Severus refused to part with, despite his offers of a new, proper silver service, fit for his Serpent Prince.

He sat and sipped tea, his glance wandering between his sleeping lover and the black robes hanging on the corner of the wardrobe. There had been a gathering last night. The Dark Lord's power was growing daily, and Regulus shivered as he recalled the "entertainment" that had been provided - the painful, prolonged death of a blood traitorous Muggle-lover, a wizard who had married a Mudblood and got children on her. The man had wept and pleaded for his wife and children to be spared, but the Dark Lord had only laughed and said that he would deal with such lesser animals once the blood traitors had been cleansed from the Wizarding world.

Regulus had wanted to retch. Severus had sat beside him, still and quiet, his fingers clenched on his knees, watching as the man gasped out his last tortured breaths. He had said nothing at the sick look on Regulus's face, only put one hand on his shoulder and handed him a glass of brandy when it was all over.

It was getting worse every meeting, and Regulus didn't know what he was going to do. Tucked up here in Severus's little bed-sit, he could tell himself that everything was fine, especially when they were safe in each other's arms. He was one of the Dark Lord's chosen, he knew. He had only to look at his forearm to see the Mark that proclaimed his loyalty and the Dark Lord's favour. When the Ministry finally came under their control, he would be not only protected, but well rewarded for his service. Severus was even more favoured by their Lord and would be a powerful man in the new regime, and they would have each other. Everything would be fine. The wizarding world would be protected from those renegade wizards and witches who threatened to expose them or deliberately consorted with the mad, dangerous Muggles. There would be new laws in place to protect their children and ensure that no Muggle anywhere ever harmed a witch or wizard or even gained awareness of their world.

It would be a wonderful new world.

But when he went out into the streets or sat at one of their Lord's gatherings or revels, he had a horrible sinking sensation in his gut. Watching that man die...because he had had the poor taste to marry a Mudblood witch...it had sickened him. He couldn't rationalize it or reason it away. Had there been any real reason for his death? He could have been obliviated along with his wife and spawn and cast out into the Muggle world. That would have cleansed the wizarding world as well as killing him - if not better. Those gathered to watch him die had all been the Dark Lord's followers; none of them had needed a lesson on not marrying Mudbloods! So why had he been killed?

Because it pleased the Dark Lord to kill him, he thought. Their Lord was capricious and spiteful...and sometimes Regulus wondered if he wasn't just a bit mad, as well. It was a dangerous thought, and nothing he dared voice aloud, even to Severus.

Severus seemed...well, when they were alone together, they never discussed the Dark Lord or anything relating to the Death Eaters. The closest they ever came were the few times they had been together when a summons had arrived, and they had donned their black robes and masks and apparated to a gathering together. Severus never wanted to talk about it. When they had returned to his flat last night, he had removed his robe, then Regulus's, then taken Regulus to bed and proceeded to fuck every conscious thought from his mind.

Regulus didn't know if his lover's passion had been inflamed by the Dark Lord's words or was an antidote to them, an affirming of life after witnessing death so close at hand.

He shivered again and flicked his wand at the stove, driving the heat up.

Some of the magic he had seen the Dark Lord use was more than merely illegal or Dark Arts...the spells were _evil_. Just standing in the Dark Lord's presence Regulus had felt their power, like something eldritch lying in wait, barely held in check; a cold, slimy, noisome presence that was not of this world, nor ever meant to be commanded by wizarding folk. The Dark Lord used such forces without apparent concern...was that supreme confidence in His own powers, or madness? Regulus didn't know, and would never have dared to ask. In fact, when the Dark Lord had commanded him to provide a house elf for one of His projects, he had agreed so quickly that it only now occurred to him he had no idea what purpose the elf was to serve.

He sipped his tea and tried not to think of the murdered wizard or unknown spells or dubious magical "projects" involving house elves.

Severus stirred, groaned and rolled onto his back. He stretched slowly, yawning. His long lashes fluttered open and blinked slowly. Severus levered himself up in bed and looked around the room until he spotted Regulus sitting by the stove. "You're up early," he croaked.

Regulus smiled and held up his cup. "Tea?"

"Come back to bed," Severus suggested, pulling the covers back and leering.

"You're insatiable," Regulus said fondly. He put his cup down and padded back to the bed, dropping his robe to the floor.

 

* * *

 

The next evening, Regulus looked down at the miserable little creature that lay panting on the floor of his room. House elves, particularly the house elves bound to the Black Family, were devoted little beasts. They did as they were bid, no matter the cost to them. As he listened to Kreacher gasping out the tale of what the Dark Lord had required of him, Regulus felt an icy anger flood his veins. No, house elves were not the equal of wizards, but any devoted creature deserved better of its masters than to be left to die alone after long and faithful service. And to borrow someone else's chattel and treat it so callously...it was worse than careless or insulting; it was _ill-mannered_. No decent wizard of any sort of breeding would think to do such a thing. The Dark Lord had pretended he valued Regulus and his service, had demanded the loan of a house elf, and then left the pitiful thing behind to die. If Regulus had not commanded Kreacher to return once the Dark Lord's bidding was done, he would never have known what had become of the elf!

He knelt beside Kreacher and patted the thin, shaking shoulders. "Kreacher, you did well. I am pleased. Now, describe this locket to me again..."

 

* * *

 

He was in agony, parched and sickened, his vision blurring and his terror rising as the Inferi clutched at him with their rotted, undead hands, trying to drag him down into the depths of their noisome pool. His fingers scrabbled at the shore, but he could not get enough purchase to pull free of their clutches. A high pitched sound caught his attention, and he focused enough to recognize Kreacher, rocking back and forth and keening in distress. Regulus tried to lunge forward, but the Inferi held him back. He struggled for breath and finally managed to gasp, "Kr--Kreacher - help me!"

Given direct orders, the elf acted at once, grasping Regulus's hands to pull him from the lake. The Inferi were numerous and strong, but Kreacher clung to him as if welded in place. Regulus screamed in pain, as the Inferi raked him with their claws, then panted, "Home! Kreacher! Take me - home!"

Kreacher wrapped his skinny arms around Regulus and screeched, "Yes, Master!" and the world dissolved into grey nothingness.

 

* * *

 

When he regained consciousness, Regulus found himself in his own bed, in his own room. Kreacher stood beside the bed, wringing his hands and rocking from side to side. "Master Regulus is alive, Master Regulus is well!" he croaked, once Regulus struggled upright in the bed. His head was pounding and there was a foul taste in his mouth, but he nodded at the elf and waved a hand feebly to quiet him. The visions in his head were still mixed between memory and nightmare, and he needed time to think.

When the throbbing in his head died down to a dull pulse, he knew what he had to do. If the Dark Lord discovered what he had done, he would be a dead man. He had disrupted the blackest of Dark magics, spells and enchantments that the most hardened of the Death Eaters would look at askance, and the Dark Lord would spare no effort to find and destroy him. If he were even known to have gone to that cave, he would be doomed. The odds on him winding up dead because of last night's adventure were looking very, very favourable.

Well, if he might was well be dead, perhaps that was the answer. He could just...die.

Or be thought dead, at any rate. If he went away...somewhere far away, where no one would think to look for him...

He looked around the room, considering. He had money, not his inheritance or allowance, but money gifted him over the years by wealthy and fond relatives and family friends. He'd kept it all in his own little dragon-bank, being a mistrustful child from a young age. Besides, the Gringott's goblins had frightened him, when Aunt Lucretia had taken him to open a savings vault at the tender age of five. There would be enough to set up somewhere far away, and a bit over, to keep him until he could find work of some sort. He wouldn't be able to take anything that might be missed, and he certainly wouldn't be able to let his family know. They would grieve for him, but better that than leaving them to the Dark Lord's non-existent mercy. He would not hesitate to hurt them to get to Regulus, no matter how ancient their names or pure their blood, he thought bitterly. And not just family, but his friends--

Oh, Merlin - _Severus!_

Every nerve in his body shrieked in pain at the thought of leaving Severus without a word, but he clenched his fists and closed his eyes, telling himself it had to be. He couldn't say _anything,_ not as much as "Goodbye!" Whether Severus would stand with him or turn him over to the Dark Lord was something he could not bear to think about, but it didn't matter. The Dark Lord knew they were friends; they had joined His forces together. If Voldemort - he might as well use the name, in the privacy of his own mind - learned that he and Severus were also lovers, Severus would be tortured and probably killed, whether Voldemort thought he knew anything of Regulus's whereabouts or not.

He shuddered and groped around the bed, fishing up the heavy locket and clutching it tightly in his hand. Was this bit of gold worth all that? Worth his life and the lives of those he cared for? It felt cold and Dark, as if something of hideous evil were prisoned in its softly gleaming metal. He had made his choice, really, when he had heard Kreacher's story and decided to act. From that point, there had been no going back.

"Kreacher, come here," he commanded, quietly. The elf stepped up, ears fairly quivering in eagerness to serve. "Kreacher, I want you to take good care of this locket. Look after it, and make sure no one else takes it until I ask you for it again. I put it into your keeping."

Kreacher's rheumy eyes swam with tears as he took the locket. "Kreacher will care for Master's locket. Kreacher will keep it most safe!"

"Good, Kreacher, I knew I could rely on you." Regulus said solemnly.

He would deal with Kreacher - a painless _obliviate_ and a carefully implanted false memory would suffice - once he knew where he was going, and he would decide that once he had packed the few things he dared take with him.

For now though, while the memories were still fresh...he closed his eyes and thought of Severus, drawing up the memory of yesterday morning and their last love-making. Severus...long and lean, stretched out on the worn linen sheets in the chilly flat, desire in his eyes and magic in his touch, his kiss, the words he murmured against Regulus's skin as they moved together... He dove into the memory, replaying it slowly, trying to imprint every touch, every sound, every scent of Severus in his memory, preserving them for all time.

Tears ran down his face as he remembered the feel of Severus rolling him onto his back, kissing a path down his chest and belly, and then taking him into his wicked, wicked mouth. The heat and wetness and the touch of Severus's long, clever fingers on his prick, his bollocks, sliding beneath and stroking the tender flesh of his perineum, slipping gently between his cheeks to circle the tightly crinkled pucker until it relaxed enough to let him in. Press of fingers and tongue all at once, the rush of blood and the pounding of his pulse and the soft tickling of Severus's hair against his belly as Severus took him deeper and deeper, pressed his fingers just _so_ , and then the sucking and licking and nibbling until he wanted to scream from the overwhelming pleasure of it all...

He hugged himself tightly and clung to the memory, riding out the remembered orgasm and drinking down the sight of Severus's flushed, sweat-streaked face, with that endearing look of smug pleasure he wore each time he had made Regulus come completely undone.

 _Oh, Severus, love..._ he thought despairingly. _I may never see you again..._

 

* * *

 

It was cold in the cemetery. Remus hugged his arms and rubbed his hands up and down them against the chill. Lily and James stood nearby beside Sirius, and Peter was fidgeting off to Remus's left. Sirius looked as if he were carved of stone. His face was blank, as it had been since the word had come about Regulus dying. He couldn't take it in.

Nor could Remus, really. They'd feared Regulus had gone over to the Death Eaters - well, they'd all _known_ he had been hanging around with that bunch, but no one had wanted to come out and say, "Oy, Sirius, how's that Death Eater brother of yours, then?" But for Regulus to be _dead_ , under circumstances so mysterious there wasn't even a body left to bury...it wasn't easy to accept.

The Black family were clustered around the cenotaph they'd erected for Regulus. Sirius's mum, a harridan if Remus had ever seen one, was tearing her hair and wailing so loud it sounded like a Muggle ambulance. Sirius's father looked grey and had to be supported by some relation or other. Remus recognized a few of the others in attendance. The Malfoy family had turned out en masse, which made sense, as their eldest son had married a Black cousin, Narcissa. Her sister Bellatrix stood beside her, along with her husband and brother-in-law.

Andromeda Tonks had turned up with her little girl and been pointedly ignored by the family, but she had laid the wreath she'd brought and marched away again with her head high, only pausing briefly to speak to Sirius and lay her hand on his cheek before scooping up her daughter and apparating away.

There was a flicker of motion from beside one of the other family monuments, and tall figure in black stepped forward hesitantly to place a spray of flowers and greenery at the base of the cenotaph. He turned back to the family, pushing his hood back as he spoke to Mr. Black.

Sirius stiffened. James put a hand on his arm, but Sirius appeared not to notice.

It was Severus, Remus realized. He'd known Severus and Regulus had been friends, so he really shouldn't have been surprised to see him here at the boy's funeral, but there were far worse rumours about Severus's involvement with the Death Eaters than there had ever been about Regulus.

Severus nodded curtly to the assembled family and turned to leave, heading directly toward them.

Sirius let out a growl. James's hand tightened on his arm, but Sirius shook free.

"You bastard," he snarled as Severus came closer.

Severus paused and put a hand to his wand pocket.

Lily stepped toward him. "Severus, no," she said, almost pleadingly.

"Fucking Death Eater _bastard_ ," Sirius shouted, "You got him into that! You and your filthy Dark Arts! You killed him, _Snivellus,_ you worthless sack of shite!"

"Sirius!" James was holding Sirius back, but it was taking all his strength and determination.

Severus ignored Lily and stepped closer. "He was worth ten of you, you miserable cretin." There was fury in his eyes that surpassed any of the rages Remus had witnessed at school.

Lily took hold of Severus's right arm. "Severus, please, don't," she said, tugging him backward.

"You fucking murderer!" Sirius screamed.

James jerked him backward. "Sirius, stop it!"

"You didn't give a fuck for your brother when he was alive, Black," Severus said in a deadly tone. "Don't try to pretend you give a shite now that he's dead! I'll cut your lying tongue out. You're probably the one that betrayed him! Trying to buy your way back into wealth and power, you backstabbing shite?"

Remus stepped up and put a hand on Severus's left shoulder. "This isn't the time or place, Severus," he said quietly. Severus shot him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, but kept leaning toward Sirius, who was clearly off his head and spoiling for a knock-down fight.

"I don't take orders from _you,_ Lupin," Severus spat.

"Not an order, an observation. This is a funeral; it's hardly the place for a brawl."

Peter had finally picked up on James's eye rolling and head jerking, and had taken hold of Sirius's other arm, helping James to hold him back.

"Get him home, James," Remus said, much more calmly than he felt. "Lily and I will...talk to Severus."

James hesitated a moment, then nodded. He got a good grip on Sirius, nodded at Peter, and apparated the three of them away.

At least a quarter of the tension seemed to flow out of Severus at their disappearance. Remus stepped back, and Lily let go of him, smoothing the fabric of his robe where her hands had rumpled it.

"It's...good to see you, Severus. I'm very sorry about Regulus," she said quietly. Her voice was steady, but Remus could tell she was a breath away from crying.

Severus looked at her, and for one moment he was completely unmasked, his face ravaged by grief and pain. "I...he's gone, Lils...I don't know...I never said good-bye..." his voice was hoarse and trailed off as he closed his eyes and turned away.

Lily gingerly put an arm around him. "I'm so sorry," she said, resting her forehead against his shoulder for a moment. She looked over at Remus and her eyes were bright with tears. "I..." she shook her head, helplessly, as Severus stiffened and pulled away from her.

"Don't trust Black," he said. "Someone betrayed Regulus, and if he'd sell out his own brother, he'll sell his friends as cheaply. Don't trust him, Lily," he warned.

Lily shook her head. "He's not like that, Severus. I know you hate each other, but he'd never do such a thing."

Severus shook his head bitterly.

Remus patted her shoulder. "Go on home, Lily," he said. "Severus, how about a drink?"

"A drink? What makes you think I'd drink with _you?_ " Severus asked, curling his lip.

Remus bit back a sigh and said lightly, "Because I'm offering to buy?"

Severus snorted.

Lily gave them a sad smile. "Be well, Severus, and be...careful, please? Remus, I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Right," Remus waved as she apparated. "Well? There's a pub round the corner. I'll buy the first round, and after that you can buy one or slink off into the shadows cursing my name, as it pleases you. Deal?"

He thought Severus almost smiled at that. He led the way to the pub.

 

* * *

 

Remus poured another round and considered the situation. Severus Snape, former schoolmate and probably Death Eater, was pissed off his arse. He had to admit he was fairly well pissed himself, although with his metabolism the effects wouldn't last long. They had begun drinking in relative silence, with only a quiet toast to poor Regulus with the first round. The second had gone down quietly, despite his surprise at Severus standing the round rather than heading for the door. Remus had called for a bottle on the next round, and it sat between them on the table now, half empty. After the third firewhisky, Severus had muttered something about betrayals and faithless brothers. Remus had simply topped up his glass and let him ramble.

He leaned back now, watching Severus and wondered how on earth Severus Snape and Regulus Black had ever come to be...whatever they had been to each other. Friends, certainly, but Sirius had taken an awful ribbing about his kid brother running around after Snape with his tongue hanging out, and the two had been inseparable in Remus's seventh year. Severus was pissed now, but there had been raw pain on his face at the cemetery. Remus couldn't help but wonder...

"Regulus was a decent kid underneath, I always thought," he said diplomatically. "I always thought it was a shame he and Sirius didn't get along."

Severus shot him a baleful look. "Black couldn't stand anyone who wouldn't kiss his arse or play the fool for him."

Remus ignored the implicit insults and swallowed firewhisky, enjoying the magical burn as it slid over his tongue and down his throat. He cocked his head to one side. Glowery was a good look on Severus Snape, he thought idly. Much better than the sour sulk or annoying smirk he'd often worn when they were boys at Hogwarts. On impulse, he asked, damning the consequences. "So, was he a good shag?"

Severus's head shot up. "Mind your own sodding business, Lupin!" he snarled.

Remus nodded genially. So they _had_ been lovers, then. "I'm sorry, Severus."

Severus took another swallow and said nastily, "Looking to compare notes on Black, were you?"

Remus shook his head and laughed ruefully, then poured more firewhisky. "Sirius is terminally straight, and even if he weren't, it'd be like fucking my broth--" he stopped on the word, suddenly embarrassed.

Severus gave him another prime glare, but Remus raised his glass and said quietly, "To Regulus Black, who will be missed."

They both drank. Severus rolled his glass back and forth in his fingers and scowled. "She didn't believe me. You won't, either, but I'm warning you. That tosser, Black - he's not to be trusted. Someone..." he paused and looked around the room suspiciously. "Someone's passing information - someone inside...one of your lot."

Remus stared.

"Don't play surprised with me - I know you're all in it, doing old Dumbledore's dirty work for him. But someone's got another game going. I've not seen him, but the news has been spot on, every time. And then Regulus left one morning and never came back. Black hated Reg, and he sold him out. He's going to sell the rest of you out, too."

"But--" Remus stopped the automatic protest and thought for a moment. Severus was in no condition to be rational, and he was tipsy enough himself that logic was a bit of a reach. "Severus, why tell us, why tell me? Even if it were true, why should you care?"

"I-- " Severus stared at him helplessly, then dropped his head and let a curtain of black hair fall forward, masking his face. "I... _cared_...about Regulus. And...Lils...we grew up together. Even if she's an idiot, I...don't want her hurt, especially not by Black, that miserable scum." He looked up again. "Don' know why I bother. Lils didn' belie' me. Fuckin' Potter 'uld never even listen t'me. And you..." his voice trailed off and his expression was bleak. He picked up the bottle and poured another shot, tossing it down. "Should've killed me when we were fifteen. It would've saved everyone...lot o'trouble."

Remus was surprised at how much that hurt to hear. He reached out and caught Severus's hand. "Don't say that," he protested.

Severus shook his head and reached for the bottle again, but Remus moved it away. "Severus...I think you've had enough and more."

"Perfect little Prefect, eh? Finally grown a pair? Going to report me to Dumbledore, are you?" Severus sneered and pulled at the bottle, but Remus held on to it.

"That's right," he said pleasantly, "but it's late, and it's brass monkeys out there; it's time we called it a night." He stood up and pulled Severus up along with him, by way of the bottle connecting them. "You're too pissed to apparate," Remus observed. "So'm I, come to that. Which way's your flat? I'll walk with you, make sure the vampires don't get you," he said lightly.

Severus stood unsteadily, weaving slightly from side to side. All the sneering anger seemed to have faded; he looked rather lost. "Don' need a fuckin' prefect to see me down the stairs," he muttered, but there was little heat in it. He sounded more like an overly tired little boy desperately protesting against bedtime. "Pfff! Vampires!" he scoffed.

"Of course you don't," Remus agreed solemnly, "You'd better come along with me, then, so they don't get _me_." He tossed his old, worn cloak over his shoulders and held Severus's only slightly newer one out to him. Severus frowned in puzzlement, trying to turn the cloak right way 'round.

Remus scanned the dim pub for anyone taking an interest in the proceedings, but apart from the bartender and one hag sipping something noxious-looking at the bar, the place was deserted. "Let's go," he suggested, as Severus managed to get the cloak more-or-less over his shoulders.

Severus had apparently decided either to tolerate or ignore him, as he headed for the door, determinedly if a trifle erratically, with Remus at his heels.

It was bitter cold outside. The sky was blackest ice, lightly scored with blazing stars, and Remus could see his breath in the pale light of the waning moon. Severus looked around for a moment, and Remus caught his arm before he could attempt apparation. "Splinching's no fun, Severus; let's walk. It's a beautiful night, if a bit nippy, and the exertion will warm us up."

Severus stared at him blankly, then pulled his arm away and turned his head aside

Remus thought he saw the glimmer of tears in the dark, dark eyes. "Severus? What is it?"

Severus hunched his shoulders and began walking again. Remus caught up with him quickly. "Severus?"

"Go 'way, Lupin. What're you followin' me for, any road?" Severus mumbled into the collar of his cloak. His voice was suspiciously thick.

"Nothing better to do, I suppose," Remus said gently.

They headed down the cobbled lane, past a candle shop, a small tea shop, and a store that sold charmed timepieces, all closed, of course, due to the lateness of the hour. Severus turned down a narrow alley, went a few more feet and stumbled suddenly, fetching up against the back wall of a confectioners establishment and leaning there, his shoulders heaving.

Remus put an arm around him. "Shh...it's all right," he soothed. Severus was shaking, whether from cold or distress, it was difficult to tell. His face was waxen in the dim moonlight. He made a feeble attempt to pull away, but Remus wrapped another arm around him and pulled him close. "Shhh, shhh...it's all right, it's all right," he kept repeating, over and over.

Severus gave a strangled sort of gasp and a gulp, and then a low, broken sob, "Oh... _Reg!"_

Remus rubbed his thin, bony back and held him as the emotion poured out. He bent and rested his forehead against Severus's head, as he rubbed Severus's back and murmured soothing nonsense into his hood. Severus shuddered at the touch, making Remus suddenly wonder if anyone other than Regulus had ever held him this way.

An odd tenderness rose in him, and on impulse, he pushed Severus's hood back and pressed a cautious kiss to his pale forehead. Severus stiffened in his arms, but did not draw back. Remus slowed his hands, turning the comforting rubbing into more of a caress, and nosed along Severus's face, gently kissing his temple, and then the silky spot just in front of his ear.

Severus let out a low moan, and his hands slowly, almost reluctantly, felt their way along Remus's chest and slid down and around his ribs, under his cloak, gingerly flattening against his back and pulling him closer. "What're you doing?" he mumbled, "You hate me...always hated me...all of you..."

Remus kissed his cheekbone, feeling the sandpapery rasp of stubble beneath his lips and finding it curiously erotic. "No...I never did. Never hated you, Severus...I promise."

Severus pulled back a little, far enough to look in Remus's eyes. The cold or the walk seemed to have sobered him a bit; his lips moved, but he said nothing, only looked searchingly at Remus. They were still holding each other, and Remus felt Severus shift against him, just slightly, but enough that he could feel the warmth and solidity of Severus's body beneath his layers of cloak and robe and other garments. Remus's nostrils flared as the steam rising from Severus's collar in the cold air wound around him, bearing with it the tantalizing scents of musk and spice and faintly acrid desire. He felt himself harden, blood pulsing in his loins. He slid his hands down Severus's back, enjoying the shudder that ran through the tall, thin frame, and stroked the small of his back.

Severus closed his eyes and dropped his head onto Remus's shoulder, his hands still pulling Remus tightly against him. Remus kissed his neck and leaned forward, pressing him back against the wall and finding proof of Severus's arousal in the heated hardness that met his own as their hips touched.

One small corner of his mind wondered what the hell he was doing, kissing Severus "Snivellus" Snape in a dark, dank alley, and why his body seemed to think it was such an excellent idea. He ignored the mild inquiry in favour of starting a slow, steady rocking motion, just barely flexing his knees and feeling that hardness rub against him, making his own erection throb in response. Severus shifted again, pushing his own hips forward to meet Remus. He tipped his head back, his eyes still closed, and murmured, "Reg..."

A flush of lust and sudden jealousy rose in Remus, and he thrust his hips hard against Severus, knocking him back against the wall. He grabbed Severus's arse with both hands and jerked his hips roughly forward, pulling him hard up against him. He fastened his lips to that long, pale throat and bit down, hard, not enough to break skin, but hard enough so that Severus gasped. He sucked at the smooth skin and began thrusting against Severus in earnest, as strong, thin fingers dug into his back.

"Gah--yes!" Severus gasped out, groaning as Remus frotted harder and faster against him.

Remus bit down and worried the skin a little, then released it. "My name," he said hoarsely, "say my name!" He kept thrusting, almost violently, battering his body against Severus. Severus's mouth twisted, and his nails raked across Remus's back. Remus felt at least one of them slice through the worn fabric of his robe, but he didn't care. He could feel Severus's erection riding hard against him as Severus bucked beneath him, muttering curses and filthy words, wild-eyed, almost frenzied, but clinging to Remus with all his strength and meeting thrust for thrust.

Remus bit him again, and again - sharp, savage little bites along his throat and jaw. "I'm not him," he ground out. "You know me. I'm _not_ him. Say my name!"

"You-- _Fuck!_ Yes! Damn you, _yes!_ _Lupin!_ " Severus cried hoarsely. A violent shudder ran through him, and his hips spasmed under Remus's hands as he came. Remus bit down once more with a ragged sob of his own and felt himself spend.

They clung together as the jolting spasms ebbed, and all the rigidity of Severus's long, lean form melted away. Severus rested limply in Remus's arms, as Remus drew deep, heaving breaths of the damp night air into his lungs. He leaned his forehead against Severus's shoulder and sighed.

All too soon, Severus shook himself and drew back. Remus let him go. Those black eyes regarded him with mingled anger and despair. "That was incredibly foolish," he said. "I suppose you think you've got something on me now?"

"What? Severus, no, I--" Remus protested, but Severus cut him off.

"Save it for the re-enactment you'll no doubt perform for your precious _friends_ ," he spat. "I'm well sober now." He pushed past Remus, and stepped into the centre of the alley.

"Severus! Wait! I want to--" Remus reached for him, but before his fingers brushed his sleeve, Severus whirled about with a look of infinite disgust and apparated.

Remus stood alone in the alley, staring into the empty space where Severus had been.


	2. Chapter 2

**_November, 1981_ **

 

Severus charred another Howler to ash, brushed the remains to the floor and picked up the next letter from the pile on his desk - another strident demand for his incarceration. Most of them were like that, no worse than he expected. They called for his imprisonment or execution, occasionally specifying some notably imaginative or colourful means for his demise. There were a good representation of Howlers, easily recognized by their red parchment and the steam that began leaking from them once he touched them. Those were easily dealt with; he had no desire to listen to strangers berating him from a bit of charmed parchment, so he immolated each one as he came to it.

A few of the letters were more directly threatening. Now that the Dark Lord was gone, some of those who had lost family and friends to his forces dared to speak up, vowing vengeance. Severus smiled bitterly. If more of them had spoken sooner, there might have been fewer deaths, he mused. He'd also received a couple of anonymous letters condemning him for betraying the Dark Lord, presumably from Death Eaters who had escaped the Ministry's round up, or who had managed to convince authorities of their innocence.

He supposed reading the rest of the letters was some form of penance. Dumbledore certainly had not required him to read them, and the ordinary letters could be burned as simply as the Howlers. Yet some demon of perversity drove him to open and read each one before consigning them to the fireplace. He tossed the latest into the grate, destroyed three more Howlers, and then picked up another letter.

 

 _Dear Severus -_

 _I apologise for not writing sooner, but the news of your acquittal has just reached me. After the terrible events of All Hallows Eve, the news that you had survived - and more, that you had been working for Dumbledore!- gave me great joy. I only wish that I had been able to trust you sooner. It might have saved lives. For what it's worth, what you did required the greatest courage I have ever known, and I am very proud of you, through I can claim no right to feel so. I hope that one day we will meet again, when the world is a saner place._

 _A Friend  
_

Severus stared at the letter, then reread it. It made no sense. Who would write him an anonymous letter of _support?_ Anyone who might ever have claimed his friendship was dead - _Oh, God, Lils, Reg!_ \- in Azkaban, or keeping a very, very low profile. Those in the latter categories would hardly write to tell him they were proud of him for betraying the Dark Lord - and then not sign the letter!

He put the letter aside and worked his way through the rest of the pile. When all the rest had been read and burnt, he took the mysterious missive down and studied it again. It was written in plain ink, on ordinary parchment, with no seal or other indication of origin. Odd. Finally, he shrugged and slipped it into the drawer of his writing desk. He hadn't so many friends that he could discard any of them, not even an anonymous one.

 

* * *

 

 _**December, 1981** _

 

Diagon Alley was gloriously bedecked for Yule, fairy lights glowing against the softly drifted snow that hugged the edges of the street. Merchants had gone all out for this first celebration since the Dark Lord's fall, with magical window displays and brightly lit signs touting their wares. Severus pulled his hood close and kept to the side streets, in no mood either to join the revelry or to be recognized by the revellers. There were preparations to be made for the return of his Advanced Potions students after the holidays, and he required some supplies not available in Hogsmeade, or he would never have ventured so far from the school.

He had to visit three different apothecaries before he located the type and quality of evaporated acromantula venom he required, along with a pint of Re'em blood. Those safely acquired, he headed for Knockturn Alley and the vendors who were less fussed about trade restrictions and illegal potions components. He stopped in at Syphon and Dregge's and haggled with the clerk over some frozen ashwinder eggs of dubious provenance, then went on to Fotheringham's to inspect their latest selection of "second hand" laboratory equipment.

He was heading back toward the glaring brightness of Diagon Alley when what he had taken for a snow drift suddenly shifted, resolving itself into a huddled figure covered with a considerable dusting of snow. The figure shivered and drew in on itself, curling tightly into the space between the wall and a large dustbin.

Severus drew his wand and murmured, _"Lumos!"_ The light from his wand shone on the snow-covered shape, illuminating a bare headed, tousle-haired and bewiskered wizard in disreputable robes. He frowned. There were derelicts in the wizarding world, of course, but on a night like this, most of them had sense enough to find shelter. He sighed. "Wake up!" he said sharply, shining the light onto the man's face. "It's snowing, old man! Get indoors before you freeze!"

The stubbled face twitched and the man opened his eyes, then shut them tightly against the glaring light. Severus took a step backwards in surprise. Lupin? What was he doing here?

"Lupin? Get up!" He bent to shake the snow-covered shoulder, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the grimy feel of Lupin's thread-bare cloak.

Lupin moaned softly, then slowly turned his head and opened his eyes, peering up at Severus. He blinked slowly and drew a deep, ragged breath. "Severus?" The name was a weak croak. Lupin struggled to sit up, shivering as the snow fell off his back and shoulders. "What are you doing here?" he asked feebly.

"I could ask you the same," Severus said caustically. The werewolf looked terrible, gaunt and grizzled, with dark circles under his eyes, hollow cheeks and several livid scratches running down his throat. Severus repressed a shiver at those, knowing their origin. The moon was only a few days past full.

"I...haven't anywhere to go," Lupin said bleakly. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall. "They threw me out, after...well, you know." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "If we weren't so bloody hard to kill, the snow would have done you all a favour, and me as well."

Severus rolled his eyes. He looked down at the ragged man in exasperation. "Damn you, Lupin, are you so bloody ineffectual you can't even keep yourself off the damned streets?"

Lupin sighed. "What does it matter, anyway," he said, shrugging slightly. "They're gone...all gone. James...Lily...even poor Peter. God, and Sirius! Sirius mad as a hatter in Azkaban..." He shook for a moment, remembering. "You told me so, ages ago, didn't you, Severus? And none of us would listen..." He choked up and stopped, burying his face in his hands.

Severus felt a stab of ice through his heart at Lily's name. The hazy memories of Regulus's funeral, and trying to warn Lupin against Black surged up, followed by the image of himself and Lupin, madly rubbing off against each other in a dingy alley. He felt himself flushing. He vented his embarrassment in angry words. "You're pathetic, Lupin! Yes, they're dead! And you freezing your arse off behind Diagon Alley isn't going to bring any of them back!"

Lupin peered at him, then covered his face again. "Go away, Severus. Just...leave me to my misery," he mumbled. "It won't be long now...one more full moon, perhaps two, and I won't trouble you ever again."

Severus told himself he ought to walk away. It was none of his responsibility if Lupin chose to freeze to death (if that were even possible for a werewolf...hm...he'd have to look that up, once he was back at Hogwarts...) or was so careless that he got himself killed by some pelt-hunter or Dark wizard out for werewolf blood, teeth or other components. It would be no less than he deserved. Dumbledore had outlined Severus's duties, and none of them involved nurse-maiding a mangy, grief-stricken werewolf with a death wish!

He pulled his cloak closed and turned away. He got about four paces down the lane before he stopped, cursing, and turned back. He took hold of Lupin's shoulder and pulled him roughly to his feet, ignoring the gasp of pain the werewolf made. "Come on," he said, putting an arm around Lupin when it became apparent he couldn't stand unaided.

Lupin didn't fight him, whether from physical weakness or good sense, Severus didn't bother wondering, as he was quite prepared to stun and levitate the fool as far as necessary. The werewolf's frame was shockingly spare under his thin, ragged robes; Severus could feel his ribs. He half-carried Lupin along the path and around the corner to Diagon Alley, for once blessing the milling throngs and the holiday lights, as no one paid them any mind as they made their way down to the Three Tuns, a small pub tucked in beside one of the apothecaries Severus favoured.

The publican looked up as they entered, though he seemed to be doing a fair business; most of the tables were occupied. "Help you, gents?"

"You've a room available?" Severus asked shortly.

"Indeed I have, sir! By week, day or hour," the stout man replied blandly.

Severus snorted, felt in his pocket and flipped a galleon across to him. "An hour for now; I'll discuss arrangements with you later."

The landlord caught the coin and nodded. "Number 15, right at the top of the stairs." A key floated across the room and Severus plucked it from the air. Lupin was slumped against him, breathing heavily. "The stairs, Lupin - can you climb?" Severus asked him in an undertone.

Lupin mumbled something incoherent.

Cursing himself and all feckless werewolves, Severus muttered a featherweight charm and manhandled Lupin's nearly unresponsive form up the stairs and into Room 15, where he dropped the werewolf on the bed. Lupin gave a small cry of pain as he hit the bed, and Severus fell into the single chair, wondering what to do next. The room was small, but blessedly warm, and the bed was piled high with pillows and featherbeds. There was a fire burning in the grate, and a kettle hanging on a hook by the fireplace.

Lupin stirred and moaned softly as he tried to turn onto his side. Severus wearily got to his feet and went over to the bed. He frowned in distaste as he opened the tattered cloak and pulled it aside. Lupin whimpered, and as the filthy cloth came free, Severus could see why. There was a long, dark stain on his robe, looking suspiciously like blood.

"Damn you, Lupin," he muttered, "I thought weres healed faster than humans. What have you done to yourself?" He pushed Lupin onto his back and started trying to remove the robe, but Lupin caught his breath and gave a tiny moan at each tug. Finally, he felt the robe carefully, freed Lupin's wand and set it aside, then drew his wand and banished the abused garment, leaving Lupin in a thin, blood-soaked shirt and trousers.

Their stroll from the alley must have started a barely-healed wound bleeding again, he decided as he examined the stains. There were dried bloodstains as well as freshly wet patches that grew larger and redder as he watched. He threw off his own cloak and outer robe and rolled up his sleeves, then grimaced and banished Lupin's shirt and trousers as well.

Apparently that was enough to penetrate whatever daze had settled over the werewolf, as his eyes shot open, rolling wildly, and he frantically felt about his hip for a wand that was not there.

"Calm down, Lupin, I'm not going to eat you," Severus said in disgust. Lupin's torso was scored with dozens of scars, some faded into near invisibility, some thin white streaks, and a few still the bright pink of healing flesh. The long gash on his side, though... Severus gently pulled his arm up to study it. The wound was not terribly deep, but it was red and angry, bleeding where the new skin had been torn open again.

"Severus?" Lupin's voice was weak, but he sounded more connected to reality than he had in the alley.

"Yes. Turn onto your side, can you?" He pushed gently on Lupin's shoulder, urging him onto the uninjured side.

"I..." Lupin turned, but looked over his shoulder at Severus. "I've not _quite_ taken to paying my lodgings this way," he said quietly. "Not yet, anyway."

Severus paused, then snorted as Lupin's meaning sank in. "Don't be daft. I need to see what the bloody hell you've done to yourself."

"Ah." Lupin shook for a moment, and Severus realized he was laughing. "Well, by all means, look all you like."

"Hm. Knife? Silver, I presume?" It was the only thing likely to have caused such a wound.

"Aye, and hexed as well. My late landlord had some...interesting friends, it seems. I got away without killing any of them, but it was a near thing."

Severus shook his head. "Hold still. I haven't anything specific for silver poisoning, but..." He rummaged through his sack of shopping and pulled out a few items. A quick spell filled the kettle with water and had it steaming in short order. He soaked a tea towel with hot water, wrung it out and sprinkled it with Wound Clean, and used it to clean the nasty slice, ignoring Lupin's gasp of pain as the hot cloth rasped over his raw flesh. He doused the wound with essence of murtlap and covered it with a clean, dry towel, held in place with a sticking charm.

"There, that will help. You'll have to take a sulphur tonic to cleanse your blood, but the wound ought to begin healing now," he said, regarding his work with satisfaction.

Lupin sighed and gingerly rolled onto his back. He shivered slightly, and Severus realized that although the room felt comfortable to him, he _was_ wearing several layers of good linen and wool. He pulled the side of the counterpane and top featherbed up and over the shivering werewolf.

"I'll be back shortly," he said. "When did you last eat?"

Lupin regarded him mildly. "What day is it?" he asked.

Severus rolled his eyes and went downstairs.

 

* * *

 

The pub's landlord was only too happy to accept a month's rent and board, as well as to send his youngest down the road to a second hand robe shop that was keeping late holiday shopping hours for a few items. He also provided Severus with a tray of hot soup, bread and tea, which floated up the stairs beside him as he returned to the room.

He had not been gone all that long, but when he re-entered the room, he found Lupin's cloak hanging from a hook, still tattered, but clean, and the werewolf's shoes standing neatly at the side of the bed, with his socks, cleaned and folded and tucked into the shoes.

Lupin was under the covers, apparently asleep. As his hair showed its normal tawny colour and fell in easy waves against the pillow, its former mats vanished, Severus deduced that Lupin had also managed a few cleaning charms on himself before falling asleep.

He set the pile of used clothing down on the dresser and guided the tray of food to the bedside table. Lupin's nose twitched at the scent of food, and his eyes fluttered open. He tensed for a moment, and Severus could tell he had his hand on his wand.

"Severus?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes. There's food; sit up and eat, if you can manage it."

Lupin groaned, but pulled himself upright and managed a few spoonfuls of soup and a mouthful of tea before slumping back into the pillows, exhausted.

Severus dimmed the lamps, made himself a cup of tea and settled into the chair, watching Lupin's chest rise and fall. When he finally set the cup aside, Lupin spoke, startling him.

"I am rather pathetic, aren't I?" he asked quietly. "Why are you wasting your valuable time on me, Severus? I know you'd far rather be anywhere else."

"Not _anywhere_ ," Severus corrected him automatically. "I can think of all too many less pleasant places, unfortunately."

Lupin nodded slightly, his eyes still closed. "They didn't trust me, you know," he said. "I suppose that's the part that hurts the worst. If they'd trusted me, I'd have known what was going on. I might have been there. I might have been able to save them...or I might have been able to die beside them." Tears slid down his cheeks. "I can't get past that. I shouldn't be here. James, Lily, Peter...all gone...and yet, here I am. It's not right."

Severus thought of Lily, as he had last seen her, and a lump formed in his throat. It wasn't right, but there was nothing to be done about it. "They would argue with you," he said finally. "Your friends would hardly want you dead as well."

Lupin gave a bitter little laugh. "I suppose we could send a note to Azkaban and ask for Sirius's vote."

Exasperated, Severus snapped at him. "Lupin, if you're determined to die, do let me know. I can recommend any number of poisons that would be efficacious on werewolves, without destroying the intrinsic magical properties of your carcase, should you choose to will it to someone."

Lupin's eyes flew open and he stared at Severus, then chuckled, feebly at first, before developing into proper laughter. He laughed until he had no breath left, and his frame still shook with unvoiced laughter. He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands, wincing as the dressing on his side pulled with the motion. "You win, Severus," he gasped, finally. "If I decide to do myself in, I'll be certain to consult you first, and I'll gladly leave you my carcase, which will probably be worth quite a bit more once I'm no longer occupying it."

"Four hundred fifty-three thousand, eight hundred and fifteen galleons, approximately," Severus replied, deadpan.

Lupin shot him a startled look, then began chuckling again. "You'd be a reasonably wealthy man with that," he said.

"The potential value is, of course, considerably higher, if one considers the range of potions that could be made from the raw materials..." Severus continued.

Lupin snorted. "I'm very happy to hear it," he said, giving a long sigh and relaxing into the pillows again. "I do appreciate this, Severus; I'm sorry to have been an inconvenience."

"No matter," Severus said shortly. He still wasn't quite sure why he had bothered, but what was done was done. He settled back into the chair and propped his feet up on the edge of the hob.

They were quiet for a while, and Severus thought Lupin must have dozed off. He shifted in the chair and reached out for his cloak, as the fire had burned down quite a bit and the room was growing chilly.

"Severus?"

"Hm?"

"Isn't that chair rather uncomfortable?"

"It will do. Go to sleep, Lupin."

"Are you planning to stay the night?"

Severus sighed. "Yes. It's too bloody late and the snow's too bloody deep around Hogwarts for a midnight stroll from the apparition point."

"There's plenty of room in the bed," Lupin said.

Severus snorted.

"You're going to have a stiff back if you spend the night in that chair," Lupin warned. "I promise not to compromise your virtue."

"You are the most irritating, infuriating..." Severus muttered, but he swung his feet down and toed off his boots, then slipped off his robe, coat and waistcoat, and bent down to pull off his socks. He rose and undid his braces, letting his trousers fall to the floor and stepping out of them. "Budge over, you annoyance," he growled.

Lupin gave him a quick smile and shifted to make room for him.

"Two's warmer than one in a bed, anyway," Lupin said.

"Shut up and sleep," Severus grumbled.

"Good night, Severus...and thank you."

 

* * *

 

He was having an unusually good dream. He was lying in a meadow, with soft moss beneath him and sunlight on his face, and someone was running warm, talented fingers all over his touch-starved skin, rubbing his nipples and stroking his belly until he wanted to purr with pleasure.

The gentle hands smoothed his thighs and cupped the soft skin of his belly, then trailed fingertips down and carded through his pubes, scratching him lightly, deliciously. They skimmed along his semi-flaccid cock, then his foreskin was gently grasped and stroked up and down. He sighed comfortably and felt himself growing hard. The fingers on his cock kept teasing until he was fully erect, and the other hand slid down to cradle his bollocks, hefting them gently and rolling them back and forth with practiced ease.

He could feel the pre-come welling from him and sliding down his shaft, then a puff of warm breath made him tense, and the next thing he knew, his foreskin was slipped back and the head of his cock was enveloped in wonderful wet heat. An agile tongue swept across his glans, making him shiver and buck, then trailed down his shaft, lapping at the tender skin and rasping along the great vein on the underside, until he wanted to scream.

The fingers on his bollocks squeezed gently, then slipped behind them and slid between his buttocks. He gave a tiny whimper and tried to spread his legs and thrust into the willing mouth at the same time. There was a faint humming sound, and the hot mouth moved up and down, taking him deep then letting him slip almost free. The other hand left him for a moment, and he felt more fingers on his shaft. His cock slipped free of the attentive mouth, leaving the fingers to encircle him, sliding up and down, up and down.

 _"Lubricus,"_ a voice said hoarsely.

Severus's eyes flew open. It was morning. He was lying in bed, in a rented room, with his pants pulled down, a naked werewolf sprawled over him and--

A slick finger slid back between his arse cheeks and brushed over his opening. He gasped.

Lupin nosed along his belly, inhaling deeply. "God, you smell _good,_ Severus!" he said, before licking a long line up Severus's cock and taking him into his mouth once again.

The slick finger circled his arsehole, then wriggled its way inside. A moment later, another joined it. They began sliding in and out, rhythmically.

Severus moaned mortifyingly loud and drew his knees up, exposing himself shamelessly. Lupin chuckled around his cock, then flicked the tip of his tongue over the glans, making Severus gasp again.

"God--" Severus grasped handfuls of bedding and arched up, trying to drive his cock down Lupin's throat. The maddening werewolf held him down and began to suck, hard. Severus made a mewling sound, and Lupin rolled his tongue around the head of his cock again, then circled the base of it with his free hand and began stroking him as he sucked again. The fingers in his arse were delving deep, twisting, searching, feeling, until suddenly they stroked over one particular spot and Severus nearly screamed in pleasure.

Lupin made a pleased sound and continued sucking and stroking him. His fingers had that magical spot well located now; they traced around it and alongside it and then finally, mercifully, right over it once again. Severus felt every nerve in his body tense to the breaking point, as Lupin took him in deeply once more and pressed hard on that spot, then a burst of white stars exploded in his head. and he was coming with a great shout, his whole body pulsing, jolting, feeling fire and lighting racing through his veins and over his skin and pouring out through every orifice.

When the shuddering spasms finally slowed, his vision began to clear, and his heartbeat returned to something approaching normal. Severus opened his eyes and blinked at Lupin, who was smiling up at him with a decidedly smug expression on his face and a droplet of semen on his lower lip. He ran his tongue over his lips quite lewdly, catching the drop and swallowing it with every indication of delight.

"Good morning," Lupin said huskily. He eased his fingers out of Severus, who felt himself flush, absurdly, then murmured a spell that summoned a wet flannel from the tiny bathroom. He used it to wipe Severus clean, gently, then to wipe his own hands.

"What," Severus heard his voice coming out as a panicky squeak and cleared his throat to try again. "What the hell was _that?_ " he demanded.

"A flannel?" Lupin asked innocently. He grinned at Severus and crawled up the bed to stretch out beside him. "Don't look so alarmed, Severus," he said gently. "It was...an impulse, if you like. I woke feeling better than I have since...well, in a very long time, and you were beside me, with an arm over my hip and something rather warm and firm nestled up against my bum. When you rolled onto your back, you seemed to be having a rather nice dream, and I thought I might help it along a bit."

Severus blinked at him, then shook his head and drew his pants back up and sat up. "And that bit last night, about not compromising my virtue?"

Lupin smiled gently. "Does it feel compromised? I suppose I lied, then."

Severus got to his feet and began dressing. "You said you hadn't stooped to...peddling your assets. I suppose this was an exception?"

Lupin sat up, his face gone sober. "If you want to look at it that way. I _am_ grateful for your help, Severus. And you may choose not to believe it, but that is _not_ why I made love to you."

"Love?" Severus scoffed. "Well, I don't know what the going rate is, but I've paid for the room and board here for the next month. That will keep you off the streets for a bit, anyway."

Lupin got to his feet unsteadily and stepped up to Severus. He was nearly nude, but for a thin pair of pants and the dressing on his ribs, but somehow his state of undress did not affect his quiet dignity, or the slight air of menace he had begun projecting.

Severus pulled his cloak on, fastened the frog and sneered at him. "You might even turn a tidy profit, as your customers won't have the cost of the room to cover."

Lupin moved so fast Severus never even saw the blow coming. He caught Severus with a perfect right hook to the jaw that sent him staggering back and crashing into the wash stand.

Severus untangled himself and stood up, his face flushed and a fresh bruise blooming on his jaw. Lupin still stood in place, watching him.

"Thank you very much for your help, Severus," he said pleasantly. "Happy Christmas to you."

Severus yanked the door open and left without a backward glance.

 

* * *

 

An owl was waiting for him the next morning.

 

 _Dear Severus,_

 _Greetings of the season to you. I hope you are well and enjoying the respite from your students. I still have trouble imagining you as a teacher of young children, although I am sure the more advanced students are fortunate to have the benefits of your abilities. I suppose the streets of Hogsmeade are brightly decorated and people are celebrating with new enthusiasm, this first holiday since the defeat of You Know Who. I wish I could feel celebratory, as well, but the spectres of the past are with me still, as I know they must be with you._

 _Still, it feels good to write to you. If you should feel similarly, please send a reply by this owl, who knows how to find me. It may be foolish of me, but corresponding with you makes me feel slightly less alone._

 _I hope you are keeping well and finding whatever solace there may be in the company of colleagues and friends._

 _Warm wishes,_

 _A Friend_

 

The writing was the same as in the previous letter, and this time, he thought he had a fairly good idea of the writer's identity. Severus frowned and tucked the brief note away with its predecessor, then, before he thought better of it, he drew a sheet of parchment from his desk and began to write.

 

 _Dear "Friend,"_

 _Is there some reason you do not deign to give me your name? I am not accustomed to corresponding with ciphers. As to your comments, I count the dwindling days of my reprieve from the horrors of teaching with increasing dread. The little beasts will return all too soon, and I am strictly forbidden from turning them into beetles or other useful creatures._

 _I have no taste for celebrations, but I admit the general air of frivolity has made it somewhat easier to get through the days without confrontations amongst the staff. They are all drunk on celebration; I expect the effects to wear off sometime in January, with the appropriate headaches and nausea, no doubt._

 _Compliments of the season to you._

 _S. Snape_

 

He offered it to the owl before he allowed himself second thoughts, and watched the bird fly away.

There was a response three days later.

 

 _Dear Severus,_

 _I am sorry for the anonymity, but it is not safe for me to commit my name to these letters, nor for you to know it. I hope that will not prevent you from corresponding with me. I enjoy your caustic turns of phrase, and unless I am badly mistaken, I think you will enjoy having someone to whom you can express such frustrations and the desires to transfigure your students into potions ingredients. They would almost certainly be more valuable that way, as I'm sure you'll agree!_

 _Happy Yule, and a happier New Year than those we've recently seen._

 _A Friend_

 

Severus snorted at the letter and tucked it away with the others. He had never been much given to correspondence, but...perhaps this "friend" was right. It would be...pleasant...to have an outlet for the thoughts he muttered under his breath during Dumbledore's eternal staff meetings. He was a past master of discretion; he had no fears he would say more than was prudent.

As Dumbledore was fond of saying, everyone ought to have a hobby.

 

* * *

 

 _**August 1993** _

 

The letters had come at irregular intervals over the next years. Sometimes they exchanged letters every few days for months, and sometimes there were months between responses. It was a harmless indulgence, Severus told himself, but he carefully did not examine how much he looked forward to each note, or how much of his own private thoughts and feelings he poured out to the "anonymous friend."

That summer, the news was all about the escaped convict, Black. When the letter came in August, he was expecting it.

 _Dear Severus,_

 _I am sure I do not need to tell you about Sirius Black's escape, nor to warn you how dangerous he is. Be on your guard, Severus. The man is not only dangerous, he is quite probably mad. He has always hated you, and now that he is on the loose, you may well be in great danger. Please, I beg you, watch your back, be wary of shadows, and take every possible precaution. Black has killed his closest friends and countless Muggles without any sign of remorse; your death would please him very much. I beg you to be on your guard, constantly._

 _A Friend_

Severus re-read the account in the _Prophet_ before replying, then cut it out and enclosed it with his response.

 _Dear Friend,_

 _As you must be aware, I am_ always _careful. Black has a great deal to answer for, and if he dares to show his face around the school, I wager he'll soon wish he had stayed in Azkaban. We have all lost too much to that madman to take him lightly._

 _S. Snape_

 

There was no response to his letter, but a few weeks later, Remus Lupin stepped off the Hogwarts Express along with the returning students.

 

* * *

 

The next few months were torture. Severus was torn between his anger at Dumbledore's appointment of Lupin to teach Defence and promise that _of course_ Severus would brew the new Wolfsbane Potion for Lupin, without the Headmaster's first consulting him, and his justifiable pride and satisfaction at the success of the potion, as well as his significant improvements to the process of brewing it.

And then, of course, there was Lupin himself. Softly smiling, dressed in faded tweeds and a worn teaching robe, the man drove Severus absolutely around the twist with his gentle comments and refusal to rise to any of Severus's attempts to bait him.

Lupin's adoption of the Potter boy and his little band of hangers on was only to be expected, of course, but when Severus heard the student tittering in the halls about a boggart that had materialized as Professor Snape and had been summarily dressed in Dame Longbottom's garb, he was ready to explode.

Lupin was unfailingly polite. He thanked Severus most sincerely for the potion he brewed each month, but he neither flirted nor argued with Severus, and it was _infuriating!_ It was almost as if he had forgotten everything that had passed between them. But very occasionally, only when Lupin thought he was unobserved, Severus caught a look on Lupin's face that made his pulse race, a look of hunger, of burning, passionate desire that was instantly damped if someone spoke to him or otherwise caught his attention.

Something had to give; it was only a question of when.

 

* * *

 

 _**May, 1994** _

 

Severus took the steaming goblet to Lupin's quarters and rapped sharply on the door. When it opened, Lupin gave him a polite smile, as usual, and ushered him inside. He set the goblet down on the table. "Your potion."

"Of course. Thank you, Severus. I do appreciate it; you'll never know quite how much." Remus gave a brief shudder and picked up the goblet to drain it.

"Do you?" Severus asked suddenly.

Remus paused with the goblet halfway to his lips. He lowered it, slowly. "Yes, I do," he said. "Why wouldn't I? You've given me something that ensures that, although my form will change, I will retain my will, that I will have _control_ , that I will not become a ravening monster, will not kill, or harm anyone, not even myself. Yes, I appreciate it! I'm neither a fool nor an ingrate. I know there are only a handful of wizards in the world who could do this, and you brew it for me. I am very deeply appreciative." He drained the goblet, wincing at the horrid taste, and set it back on the table.

"However," he said, forestalling Severus's response, "If you're suggesting I ought to express my appreciation with a properly grateful blow job, the answer is no."

Severus almost choked.

Lupin looked at him sadly. "I made that mistake once before, Severus, or possibly twice. The first time, though, it was compassion and caring and grief and a good bit of fire whisky all mixed in that brought us together. And when it was over, you pushed me aside and apparated so fast you nearly scorched the air. The last time...I _was_ grateful, you know, but that really wasn't why I did it. I felt warm and safe and... _cared for,_ damn it! Is it so surprising that I could wake up in bed beside a man I've known since childhood, a man who had been unexpectedly kind and caring to me the night before, a man I had already _had_ sex with, once upon a time, and find that man desirable? Is it strange that I could look at him and see his morning erection pressing through his pants and want a better look at it? Or that I could find his scent arousing and want more of it, want to taste him?" He shook his head. "I suppose it was naive of me, but I thought that was something we shared, to our mutual pleasure, not something I did in _payment._ Whatever you may think of me, Severus, I am not a whore, nor do I trade sexual favours for any form of coin or service in kind."

His voice had grown angry and his amber eyes were burning. "I appreciate your skill and your willingness to brew this potion for me, but I don't pretend that you do it from any concern about my well-being, nor from any sort of... _affection._ I have been quite thoroughly disabused of that particular form of naiveté." He turned aside, his shoulders hunched. "And I think perhaps you had better go now."

"I-- " Severus found himself with no response to offer. Finally he simply said, "I'll bring another dose tomorrow." And left.

 

* * *

 

He did not sleep well that night. He spent most of the next day pacing his quarters, picking up books and slapping them down in irritation, trying to work on the notes of his next experimental process and finding himself doodling on the corners of the parchment instead. He felt twitchy and out of sorts and kept looking in the mirror to see if he was coming down with spots of some sort.

He took the letters from A Friend from their shelf and re-read them, particularly the last four or five, then put them away, almost whining with frustration. Lupin was the most maddening creature on the face of the earth! Why did he have to be here? And why, oh, why did he have to turn Severus's every nerve to brittle glass?

Finally, he strode to his fireplace and barked out a series of orders to the kitchen. He looked around his quarters at the stacks of books and parchment, bottles of ingredients and collected samples, and piles of potions periodicals. "Damn it," he muttered as he drew his wand and began tidying the place to rights.

When he was finally done, he sat down and wrote a note to Remus Lupin.

 

* * *

 

Promptly at nine o'clock that evening there was a polite tap on his door. Severus took a deep breath, brushed off his velvet robes (ten years old and most likely woefully out of fashion, but they still fit him well enough, and they only had one small moth hole on the right cuff and a tiny hellebore stain over the right thigh), and opened the door.

Lupin stood there, regarding him quizzically. "You wanted to see me, Severus?" he asked.

"Please come in," Severus said, waving his hand awkwardly in an attempt at graceful insouciance.

Lupin tilted his head in curiosity, but stepped inside.

The small table Severus normally kept against the wall and covered with periodicals had been pulled out into the centre of the room, covered with a snowy white cloth and set with candles, flowers and sparkling golden chargers and utensils. The table was flanked by two chairs.

"I wondered if you would have dinner with me," Severus said.

Lupin stared at him for a long moment. "I thought you sent for me to give me the potion."

"Oh, yes, of course." Severus fetched the steaming goblet from its place by the hearth and handed it to him.

Lupin drank it down and returned the goblet. "Thank you, Severus. It's as delightfully foul-tasting as ever."

Severus gave a small snort of amusement as he put the goblet away, then turned back to Lupin. "You haven't said--"

"I'd be delighted to have dinner with you," Lupin said with a smile. He took a seat at the table and Severus joined him. Their meal materialized before them: a salad of fennel, oranges, figs and walnuts, roast duckling with savoury dressing and pomegranate glaze, asparagus and roasted potatoes.

Severus poured them each a glass of wine.

"This is quite a feast, Severus. What's the occasion?" Lupin asked, sampling the wine.

"Oh, the house elves get bored feeding the students. They like a change, now and then," he replied. He had no reason to feel nervous, he told himself. They were in his quarters, at his own table, and there was certainly no need to feel _fidgety,_ like a boy about to lose his virginity!

They made polite conversation during the meal, mostly about their students and the other teachers, and carefully avoiding the subjects of Potter and Black, two areas fraught with emotional land mines.

When they had finished the duck, the leftovers vanished, to be replaced by elegant dark chocolate _pots de crême,_ each topped with a dollop of whipped cream, a ripe strawberry, and a dusting of cocoa.

Lupin plucked the strawberry from his dessert and regarded it, a slow smile spreading over his face. With a twinkle in his eye, he said, "Why, Severus Snape, I do believe I'm being seduced!"

Severus, fortunately, had not tasted his dessert yet, or he would have choked on it. His face heated, and he took a sip of the robust cabernet that had appeared along with the chocolate.

Lupin smiled even broader and lewdly licked the cream from the ripe berry. "Not that I object, you understand," he said huskily, "It's just a bit...unexpected."

"I..." Severus found himself flailing for words as all the blood seemed to drain from his head to centre in his groin.

Lupin's lips closed gently on the berry, sucking its tip before biting into it, then licking the sticky red juice from his lips.

Severus tried to swallow and found his throat unaccountably dry.

Lupin dipped the remains of the berry into the dark, rich chocolate, swirled it slowly around in a circle and brought it back up to his lips, laden with chocolate, which he proceeded to lick off with slow, deliberate swipes of his tongue. "I would never have imagined you to guess my particular vice," Lupin said, his voice a low purr. "Chocolate is my ultimate weakness," he added, sucking the rich stuff from the wet, red berry. "I can never get enough of it."

Lupin's smile was predatory now, as he slowly rose, picked up the small crock of chocolate and cream, and approached. Severus felt a frisson of mingled fear and anticipation race down his spine. Lupin stopped beside his chair, leaning one hip against the table and looking down at him with burning eyes and that _hungry_ smile. He popped the last of the strawberry into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked the last sweet juices from it before swallowing. He dipped his forefinger into the chocolate and cream and brought it up, thickly coated, to slip into his mouth and suck on it.

Severus tried to clear his throat, but had no spit left.

Lupin slid his finger in and out, then licked the last of the chocolate from it before dipping it back into the pot. "Chocolate...it's delicious on... _everything,_ " he said, letting his fingertip graze Severus's lower lip, leaving just a maddening trace of the rich, bittersweet flavour.

Without quite meaning to, Severus opened his mouth. Lupin's chocolate-coated finger gently ran over his lips, then slid inside his mouth. Held prisoner by Lupin's glowing eyes, Severus closed his lips around Lupin's finger, coiled his tongue around it and gently sucked. Lupin pushed his finger in and out, stroking Severus's tongue and gently rubbing over his gums and palate before slipping free, to dip into the chocolate again. He slid his finger back inside, closing his eyes in pleasure as Severus sucked on it and swallowed, then, before Severus knew it, he had bent close and was kissing him.

Lupin's mouth was more richly flavoured than his finger had been. The bittersweet chocolate and rich cream were overlaid on a foundation of spice and some maddeningly enticing flavour that Severus could not identify. At the inquisitive exploration of Lupin's tongue, Severus parted his lips and let him in. He was vaguely aware that Lupin had one knee on the chair beside him and was stroking strong, blunt fingers through his hair, but his senses were more than occupied with the amazing talents of Lupin's startlingly sinuous tongue.

It ran all around his mouth, sliding against his own tongue, then sending its questing tip over and under, flicking against the soft, sensitive flesh beneath, where his saliva welled up and mingled with the enticing juices. He groaned, and found his hands gripping Lupin's arms tightly. Lupin made a small pleased sound and gently stroked his tongue over that spot again and again.

Severus had not actually planned past dinner, but it didn't seem to matter. His cock was throbbing in time with his racing pulse, and he wanted... _needed_ more. More of Lupin's taste, scent...more of that wicked tongue...more...

His fingers tightened on Lupin's arms and he nearly sobbed as he drove his own tongue into Lupin's mouth, seeking more sensation, more of that scent and taste. Lupin groaned, a deep note of such raw desire that Severus was nearly undone. Lupin suddenly pulled him up out of the chair, their mouths still clamped together as if they relied on each other for the very breath of life. There was a clattering crash as their dessert dishes went flying, and Severus had only the barest impression of Lupin's unnatural strength as the smaller man heaved him up onto the table, then climbed up and lay atop him.

God, the pressure of Lupin against him, the warm, solid weight of his body pressing into him! Severus rolled his head back and let his legs fall open, gasping as Lupin's hips slotted neatly against his and their erections pressed snugly together. Lupin released his mouth and began biting and kissing his way down his throat. Strong fingers dug into this collar and yanked it open, and Severus got his hands under the soft, worn robes Lupin wore, to find the waistband of his trousers and twitch the buttons open.

Lupin growled in his ear, slipped a hand inside the velvet robes and wormed it under the lower layers of his clothing until it rested on the skin of his chest. Lupin's hand was hot against his own heated flesh, and he arched, wanting still more contact.

"Too many clothes," Lupin said in a low, feral growl. Severus searched his lust-fogged mind for the appropriate spell, but Lupin was too impatient. He muttered something against Severus's neck, and all the buttons on his several layers of clothing slipped free. Lupin pulled robes, waist and shirt open and kissed a line down Severus's neck to his chest. He closed his lips over one small, pale nipple and suckled it, making Severus gasp.

As Lupin was exploring his chest, Severus got a decent grip on Lupin's trousers and pulled them down far enough to run his hands over the smooth, taut flesh of his arse. Lupin squirmed against him, and Severus slid one hand between them and wrapped it around the hot, hard cock that was trying to dig its way through his trousers.

"Yes...God, _yes,_ Severus!" Lupin gasped, still licking, kissing and sucking his way down Severus's torso. Severus stroked him, slowly and firmly. Lupin's hand was inside his trousers now, cupping and squeezing him gently through the thin fabric of his pants. He tried to shift, to spread his legs farther, but his trousers constrained him. Finally he spat, _"Divestio!"_ and sighed in relief as their inconvenient clothing vanished. Skin to skin was perfect - incredibly erotic and intimate. Lupin raised his head and smiled wickedly at him, then stuck two fingers in his mouth and brought them back out. He slipped the wet digits between Severus's nether cheeks and began gently rubbing them over his tightly crinkled opening. He curled the fingers of his free hand around Severus's aching cock and stroked him, trying to match the tempo Severus had set.

Lupin's cock was hard and hot in his hand. His pulse was pounding madly, and all his senses were caught up in the ever-mounting passion. Lupin muttered another spell against the soft skin of his belly. There was a sudden tingle, a firm stretching sensation, then a slick fullness in his arse.

Lupin shifted, pulling free and levering himself up, then caught Severus's knees and pulled them up and back. Lupin's fingers trailed gently, tenderly over his stretched opening, dipped inside and caressed him, until Severus thought the excess of caution would drive him mad.

"Get on with it," he snarled, reaching down and hooking his hands behind his knees and yanking them back further, until he was nearly bent double.

Lupin leaned in and took them onto his shoulders, sliding his cock up and down along Severus's as his fingers searched their way in and around his passage. Severus shouted when he found it, as the blazing white pleasure raced through his body. The assiduous fingers continued stroking in and out, paying careful attention to that particular location, until Severus was shaking with the sheer sensory overload. He arched, trying to increase the pressure against his cock, but Lupin shifted again, pulled his fingers free and replaced them with the hard, blunt head of his own cock. He held it there for a moment, as if waiting for permission or protest, then slowly, inexorably, pushed inside.

Severus wanted to scream. It had been a long, long time since he had taken another man into his body, and Lupin felt bloody enormous as he pressed inside. But then there was a hand wrapped around his cock again, stroking it, and a gentle, husky voice murmuring nonsense at him, and Lupin's cock was somehow all the way in. Severus shook and panted as he struggled to adjust to the sensation. Lupin bent forward and kissed him quickly, to avoid undue strain on his legs, then eased back and began thrusting.

As he moved, the nearly-painful fullness transmuted to pleasure, and Severus threw his head back and abandoned himself to it. Lupin took hold of him again, the firm circle of his fingers moving in blessed counterpoint to his thrusting hips. Severus's head swam as the blood danced in his veins and his nerves sang. Lupin drove the pace faster and harder, until the table shuddered beneath them with every thrust.

Severus gripped Lupin's hips hard, digging his fingers in and pulling them tighter together, taking Lupin as deep as was physically possible. He arched and strained beneath him, groaning and cursing, meaningless babble spilling from his lips as Lupin continued to thrust. He was drenched in sweat, his entire body straining toward completion. His bollocks were hard as roc's eggs, and his cock was rigid with blood, pulsing in Lupin's grip and leaking copious fluid over both of them.

"Yes...Severus!" Lupin hissed, "Let go. Come for me! YES!" He ran his thumb over Severus's glans and gave one last, firm pull as he thrust in deeply.

Severus's body tensed in one great convulsive spasm and he let out a shout as he came, thick spurts covering Lupin's hand, spattering his chest and Severus's own belly. It seemed as if it would go on forever, the jets of come pulsing out as Lupin continued stroking his shuddering cock, until at last it slowed, softened and stilled.

Lupin was breathing heavily, droplets of sweat flying from his forehead to burn on Severus's chest. He thrust again, and again, then suddenly let out a deep groan and stilled, and Severus felt him spend. They lay panting and sweat sodden, trembling in the aftermath, until finally Lupin gave a heavy sigh and shifted, slipping out of Severus and gently easing his cramped legs down from his shoulders. He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of Severus's knee, rubbing the tensed muscles as Severus's legs rested on the table once more. Lupin rubbed his cheek against Severus's sticky, come-spattered belly, then kissed his navel, before standing up with a groan, clutching the small of his back.

Severus managed to find enough spit to clear his throat, then tried to roll onto his side, only to let out a long groan of his own as his stiff muscles screamed in protest.

Lupin reached out a hand to him and he took it without thinking. Lupin pulled him upright and gave him a rueful smile. "We're not eighteen any longer, Severus," he said.

"Urg." Severus caught the edge of the table, suddenly conscious of the absurdity of the situation. He was naked and had just had sex with a werewolf on his dining table. He felt himself flushing, but before his embarrassment could develop enough to find expression in anger or sarcasm, Lupin stepped close and wrapped his arms around him.

"Mmmm..." He drew in a deep breath, rubbing his nose along the side of Severus's face and burying it in the sweaty hair behind his left ear. "You smell so good," he murmured.

"Aren't comments like that for _before_ you've fucked someone?" Severus asked, but he couldn't quite manage the level of sarcasm he had intended.

Lupin chuckled softly, running his hands over Severus's back. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But in this case, it just happens to be the truth." He kissed the side of Severus's neck before releasing him and stepping back with a smile.

Severus shivered, suddenly cold, though the fire was still burning brightly in the grate.

"Cold?" Lupin asked solicitously.

He just nodded. Lupin looked around the room. "Our clothes have probably materialized in the laundry room, but this should suffice," he said, pulling a lap robe from one of the armchairs by the fire. He shook it out and wrapped it around Severus, then sat on the edge of the table beside him and put an arm around him, rubbing to warm his chilled flesh. "Better?"

Severus nodded again, then surprised himself by replying, "The bed would be warmer still."

Lupin's hand slowed on his arm and he turned to look directly into Severus's eyes. "Beds often are," he said neutrally.

"Particularly..." he stopped and coughed a little, then decided it was too late for any further pretence at dignity. "...when there are two people in them."

Lupin's smile was curiously tender. "My limited experience bears out that theory," he said. He leaned in for a soft kiss. "Shall we put it to the test?"

Severus could not quite meet his eyes, but he gripped Lupin's hand tightly and led the way to his bedroom.

 

* * *

 

 **_July, 1994_ **

Severus appointed to himself the task of cleaning up the Defence classroom after the werewolf's departure, and took a vicious delight in smashing the few cast-offs left behind, incinerating forgotten lecture notes and scraps of parchment, and scouring the entire room with a magical wind so fierce it rattled the windows and stripped loose paint from the walls.

It didn't make him feel _much_ better, but it was a mild improvement on the absolutely foul mood that had possessed him for the past fortnight.

When he returned to his quarters, there was an owl waiting for him.

 _Dear Severus,_

 _I read the_ Daily Prophet's _account of recent events this morning. It was sensationalized, as usual, and made quite a meal of the capture and escape of the notorious Sirius Black, but one thing they did manage to report accurately. There is a paragraph devoted to the courage and quick thinking of one Professor Severus Snape, who put himself at grave risk to protect his students, facing not only a madman, but a savage werewolf as well. They were right to point out that your bravery well merited an Order of Merlin, regardless of what happened afterwards. You do. You are without a doubt, one of the bravest men I have ever known._

 _I hope you are mending (the_ Prophet _noted you had sustained some minor injuries) and that the rest of your Summer is mercifully uneventful._

 _Be well,_

 _A Friend_

 

Severus threw the letter into the fireplace and charred it to ash.


	3. Chapter 3

_**December, 1994** _

 

Preparations were well under way for the Yule Ball when the next letter arrived. He was tempted to consign it to the fire as well, but his unease over the Triwizard Tournament and its irregularities prompted him to open and read it.

 

 _Dear Severus,_

 _You must already be aware of this, but I had to write, for my own peace of mind if nothing else. There are alarming signs everywhere that indicate Dark forces are rising once more. Apart from the Dark Mark in the sky at the World Cup, which is about as blatant an omen as possible, there have been reports of roving bands of trolls near populated areas, the giants are restless, and there are worrisome manoeuvrings in werewolf packs as far away as Greece._

 _Severus, please, be careful! I fear that what we once hoped was defeated or banished is seeking to return to power, in what form we do not yet know. Guard yourself, and beware of any old acquaintances who may want more from you than it is prudent to give. I read that Karkaroff is at Hogwarts for the tournament. As you well know, he once tried to sell you to the Ministry for his own freedom; he is more than likely to betray you again if he can. He's not the only one who might panic, either. Too many people are now in comfortable positions of wealth and power to relish a return of the old days, and if they fear retribution, they too may look for a scapegoat. Your associations since those days will make you a tempting target._

 _Be careful._

 _A Friend_

 

He again considered destroying it, but finally tucked it away with the other letters. They formed a sizeable stack, and it occurred to him that they merited a rather more secure repository than an open shelf amongst his books. He took the stack and tapped it with his wand, shrinking it down to the size of a deck of cards, then stored it in the locked chest in which he kept a few rare components he had acquired over the years, along with a selection of potions he had brewed, items the Ministry - or Dumbledore, for that matter - would look askance at, but which would be difficult to obtain quickly, if they were ever needed.

He closed and locked the chest and cast his usual warding spell on it, just in case. Moody had taken to poking his nose into a variety of places where it was not wanted, and it would do no harm to take precautions.

 

* * *

 

 **_July 1995_ **

 

He returned to his quarters, took off his cloak and poured himself a large brandy. He had drained half of it before his nerves caught up with him and he began to tremble. He grimaced and forced himself to breathe slowly and deeply, slowing his pulse and calming himself. He had survived before; he could do this again. He had to.

Once the fine tremors in his hands had stilled, he took another drink - just a sip, this time - and reached for the letter that had been delivered earlier. He had put it aside as the Summons came and his Mark had burned black with the Dark Lord's call. It was thicker and heavier than the missives he was accustomed to receiving, and felt as if there were something enclosed with it.

He slit the seal and unfolded the parchment. A small parcel wrapped in black silk slid out into his hand.

 

 _Dear Severus,_

 _So, it is true; He has returned. The omens and nightmares of the past months were true warnings of the horrors to come._

 _Severus, whatever you have promised Dumbledore, I beg you to tread cautiously; we know nothing of the power He now wields, nor the depths of the evil used to bring Him back. I fear the past will return all too soon, fearful and Dark. He will want to know who is loyal - and if he mistrusts you, we both know your life will be in danger._

 _Never have I more wished I were both at your side and farther away! The prospect of the coming conflict fills me with terror, and whether I am more fearful for you or for myself is hard to tell. If that makes me a coward...well, I have never laid claim to great courage._

 _There is little I can do; my hands are tied. I can offer you only this ward and ask you to carry it with you or wear it on your person. It's hardly a masterwork; I cut, prepared and set the stones myself, after all, but it should afford you at least some measure of protection. The formula I used is attached; I know you always appreciate thorough documentation._

 _Be careful, my friend. My thoughts are with you, always._

 _A Friend_

 

The silk-wrapped parcel revealed a talisman of copper wire, cleverly, though not expertly wrought into whorls, twists and turns, and set with several gems. A small slip of parchment covered with closely-written script proved to contain a description of the preparations, potions and rituals used in the talisman's preparation.

The stones set in the talisman gleamed in the firelight. Severus turned it back and forth in his hands, examining each setting and studying the parchment notations as he identified each:

* An amethyst crystal the size of the end of his thumb, carved with runic protections against intoxicants and poisons  
* A smooth carnelian oval, the colour of a vivid sunset, noted to have been buried in sulphur salts, betony and murtlap for nine days, then heated and quenched in brandy and dragon's blood.  
* A cluster of garnets, like ripe berries on a copper vine, arranged in a runic glyph for protection   
* A shimmering moonstone with a ruddy tinge, noted to have been bathed in werewolf's blood under the light of the full moon  
* A carved serpent of malachite, set with tiny chips of ruby for eyes, noted to have been imbued with a protective charm particularly attuned to Slytherins.  
* A caved sunstone, in the shape of a serenely smiling sun face, noted to have been exposed to perpetual daylight, in a wizarding village north of the arctic circle, where the sun never set - a powerful ward against Dark magic.

He ran his fingers over the stones, feeling the power emanating from some of them, or lying quiescent beneath their smooth surfaces. Its intrinsic value was not much, a few galleons, perhaps, but the effort that had gone into its preparation was considerable, and some of the ritual components referenced were difficult to come by...for most wizards. There were a few who would not find it particularly costly or difficult to procure werewolf's blood, for example.

The thought of anyone going to so much trouble to create something like this for him was...warming. He remembered his recent obeisance at the feet of the Dark Lord and shivered. Powerful as the talisman was, it was unlikely to afford him much protection from the Dark Lord's wrath if his true allegiance were discovered. He almost rewrapped it and stored it with the letters, but on impulse, he fished a reel of silk cord out of a drawer and measured off a good length, threaded the talisman onto the cord and knotted it about his neck.

It felt warm and reassuring against his skin, the power thrumming like beating hummingbird wings. In the morning he could prepare an invisibility solution and dip the cord in it, so it would not show under his collar. He might also inquire of Filius about charms to ensure valuables were not lost or removed without the owner's consent.

Eventually he finished his brandy and went to bed, where he fell asleep clutching the talisman in one hand.

 

* * *

 

 _**April 1996** _

 

"He's an insolent, imbecilic, insufferably arrogant brat who refuses to study or apply himself!"

"He's a teenage boy, Severus, and he's under a great deal of stress!"

"He hasn't the common sense of a flobberworm or the brains of a slug! He is insubordinate and flouts authority at every turn!"

"Severus, please! He's just a boy, and God knows this year has shown him that not all authority is to be trusted! You have to make allowances for circumstances!"

"Allowances? Why should I make still _more_ allowances for Potter? I agreed to teach him occlumency! Do you know what would happen if the Dark Lord were to learn of Potter's special tutorials? Do you have any idea, Lupin? We bend over backwards for that impertinent whelp, and he throws every effort back in our faces!" Severus threw up his hands in disgust. "I have tried and _tried,_ and what did I receive for my pains? Potter snooping through the very memories I specifically removed in an effort to protect him! Do you think _I_ care if he learns what sort of bullying thug his father was, or finally sees Black in a new, truer light?" Severus gave a short, ugly laugh. "I would have been only too happy to rub his nose in it all! But Dumbledore insisted the boy needed coddling!"

Lupin covered his face with one hand and sighed. "Severus...please," he begged, "Harry needs to learn this, and you're the only one who can teach him--"

"Then he will _never_ learn, because I _cannot_ teach him, Remus!" Severus shouted.

Lupin dropped his hand and his jaw in shock. Severus was still fuming, and it took Lupin's slow smile to make him realize what he had done. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again and gritted his teeth. He walked over to the sideboard against the library wall and gripped its carved edges, leaning heavily on his hands. "He will not or cannot learn from me, not this way," he said, ignoring his slip.

Lupin sighed and came over to stand beside him. "I'm sorry, Severus. I think there's too much history for you and Harry ever to see each other in a good light - or even a neutral one. That is very sad, because you both have many fine qualities, but all you can see is each other's flaws." Lupin tapped a heavy crystal decanter with his wand, disarming the curse on its stopper, then poured them each a measure of brandy. He turned and leaned back against the sideboard, sipping his brandy thoughtfully.

Severus shook his head and picked up his glass. As he let the fiery spirit trickle down his throat, he became aware that Lupin was giving him sidelong glances and wearing that small, secretive smile that so easily drove him mad. "What?" he demanded.

"I thought we should celebrate," Lupin said with a wistful grin. "Twenty-four years, and we're finally on first-names terms."

Severus snorted and drank more brandy.

Lupin drained his, then reached out, took Severus's snifter away from him, and kissed him.

Severus stiffened only slightly at the kiss, then relaxed into it, parting his lips and welcoming Lupin's tongue as it slithered inside.

"It's been too long," Lupin - _Remus_ \- murmured, and manoeuvred them over against the heavy velvet draperies that lined the outer wall of the library. "I've missed you, Severus," he breathed, kissing Severus again and sucking briefly on his bottom lip.

"I'd have thought--" Severus broke off as Remus ran a hand down his chest and belly to his groin, cupping him and rubbing, gently but firmly.

"Hm?" Remus made an interrogative sound as he nuzzled Severus's neck and licked the outer edge of his ear.

"I'd have thought you were fully...occupied...with Black," Severus said. It sounded more like a moan of pleasure than it was supposed to, but Remus was breathing down his neck and pressing against him and -- oh, God! -- squeezing his bollocks through his robes.

Remus tsk-tsked against his neck. "I told you years ago, Sirius has no interest in men, and even if he had...he's not my type."

"And what _is_...ah!...your...type?" Severus managed to gasp out as Remus got his robes and waistband open, then slid down to his knees in front of him.

"Mmmm..." Remus pulled his cock free and took a long, deep breath, inhaling his scent, then puffing warm, moist breath over the sensitive flesh, making it twitch. "My type? Tall...dark...sarcastic...sexy...Slytherin potions masters," he said, punctuating each word with a darting kiss to Severus's jumpy flesh before slowly running the tip of his tongue around the head of Severus's cock and taking him fully into his mouth.

Severus groaned loudly, grateful for the silencing and locking spells they had placed on the door when selecting the library for their discussion. Remus took the sound as encouragement and dipped another hand into his pants, pulling his bollocks forward and caressing them, then reaching back to stroke the sensitive skin behind them.

Severus gripped the heavy velvets with both hands and pressed his head back against the wall, angling his hips forward as Remus ran his tongue around and around, then moved his mouth up and down on Severus's hardened organ, grazing him gently with his teeth, then retracing the path with his tongue. His clever fingers stroked and teased until Severus's arse was tingling and aching for more. Remus murmured, _"Lubricus!"_ and two slippery fingers pressed in past the tight sphincter and began moving in and out as Remus sucked him. They found and pressed against his prostate, and Severus bit back a scream as he flooded Remus's mouth with a rush of come.

Remus kept stroking, pressing and sucking until Severus had fully spent, then pressed his fingers in again and added a third.

Severus groaned and staggered a little as he moved to bend over the sideboard and get his trousers and pants down. Remus stood up and flipped Severus's robes over his back, bending to plant a kiss at the base of his spine. Severus took a deep breath and pushed his arse back, but rather than Remus's fingers or cock, he soon felt something slippery and sinuous trail down from the cleft of his buttocks and slip between his cheeks.

"Lu--Remus, what the hell are you--ahh!" Severus jerked in surprise as Remus's fingers parted his cheeks and Remus licked between them, right over his still-slick opening.

"You smell...so...fucking...good," Remus said, his voice rather muffled as he pressed his face closer and teased Severus's arsehole with his tongue. He paused, breathing heavily, then drove his tongue inside, groaning with apparent pleasure in Severus's flavour as well.

It was indescribably erotic, and felt...wicked. Severus felt himself hardening again and began shifting his hips, rubbing his cock against the edge of the ancient sideboard. The wicked thrill of rubbing himself off against an heirloom of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, while Black's best friend licked out his arsehole, and Black himself was probably lying in a drunken stupor upstairs made Severus even harder. "Yessss," he hissed as Remus nipped at the puckered edge of his hole, then ran his tongue around it and drove it back through the centre. "God! Remus, yes!" His nails were gouging the fine veneer, and his cock was drooling all over the surface, but he didn't care. He began thrusting harder against the unyielding wood, leaving Remus to keep up.

Remus shifted behind him, and he felt hands on his arse. He kept thrusting at the sideboard, until Remus pressed up tight behind him and he felt Remus's cock breach him. He grunted as Remus pushed in, and they paused briefly to get the timing right, then he went right back to humping Black's sideboard as Remus thrust into him.

Remus leaned low over his back and bit him on the neck. One arm wrapped around his waist and Remus took hold of him with a slippery palm. The cool lubricant eased the friction burn, and he gave a strangled cry and came, spattering come all over the dark, glossy wood. Remus murmured filthy words in his ear, then pulled him close and came, hard, his hips shaking as he filled Severus with his seed. When the spasms finally eased, he collapsed onto Severus's back, feebly rubbing little circles on his shoulders as his breathing slowed.

Severus let out a gusty sigh and rested his cheek against the smooth wood of the sideboard. Remus kissed the back of his neck. "Mmmm...you make a nice pillow, Severus," he murmured.

Severus snorted. "You are far too heavy and bony for a blanket," he retorted.

Remus chuckled and then groaned as he slipped free and pushed himself upright. He rubbed Severus's arse gently, murmuring a cleaning spell that tingled over his skin and inside his well-shagged passage, whisking away the sticky traces of their pleasure.

Severus was just getting to his feet and bending to pull up his trousers when a blue light flashed from the door to the hallway.

"Blast," Remus muttered, struggling to do up his own trousers. "Blue is Minerva; she said something about coming by, this weekend."

"Shite!" Severus jerked his trousers up and quickly brushed his robes down, as Remus snatched up his own discarded robe and threw it over his shoulders.

The light flared again, and Remus hastily cancelled the silencing spell. "--mus? Are you in there?"

"Just a moment, Minerva," he called, waving frantically at Severus and pointing to the mess they'd made of the sideboard.

Severus swore and cast a quick _evanesco_ , scouring the residue from the smooth wood and leaving it as glossy as it had been half an hour before.

Remus took a deep breath and went to the door, to let Minerva in. "Ah, Minerva, how nice to see you!"

"Remus, Severus...is everything all right?" the sharp-eyed witch looked from one to the other in shrewd appraisal.

"Of course," Remus assured her. "Severus and I just needed to have private discussion and didn't want any of the children wandering in or trying to eavesdrop."

"Ah, of course," she said sagely.

Severus cleared his throat. "Would you care for a drop of brandy, Minerva?" he inquired, indicating the sideboard.

Remus almost choked on his tongue.

"A whisky, if you please, Severus," Minerva replied with a pleasant nod.

"Of course." As he poured it, his fingers slid over the smooth, dark wood, and a wicked smile curled the edges of his mouth.

 

* * *

 

 _**September, 1996** _

 

 _Dear Severus,_

 _I understand that you will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts this year. Congratulations - I know that you have often written of your preference for that class, and as much as you dislike teaching, I am sure you will find it a welcome change, after so many years in the Potions laboratories._

 _The students are fortunate to have someone who will give them a proper grounding in the arts they will need, all too soon, I fear. Now that even the Ministry is forced to admit You Know Who has returned, it is well past time someone tried to prepare our future wizards and witches for the conflicts to come._

 _I know I need not tell you - again - to be careful. I fear I know exactly what sort of dangerous path you walk every day, and my thoughts are with you, always. There are Dark days ahead of us all, my friend, and it will take all our skills and cunning to survive them. Even I have a small part to play, though it is far less dangerous than yours._

 _On a lighter note, I hear that old Slughorn has taken your place as Potions Master! I can still recall his lectures - fifteen minutes of instruction and the rest of the class spent telling tales of his myriad acquaintances and the favours they owed him!_

 _I wish you strength and patience for the coming year - and I earnestly hope you will need them for nothing more dreadful than surviving Horace Slughorn's dinner conversations!_

 _Be well,_

 _A Friend_

 

Severus snorted and dashed off a quick acknowledgement, stored the latest letter with its mates, then sat down and went over his Defence syllabi again. It was only an attempt to distract himself from worrying over Dumbledore's condition, he knew. The curse was held in check, but only _barely,_ and it was beyond his power, Dumbledore's or any other's to repair the damage or reverse the evil spell.

The vow he had taken was another source of concern, but as he expected to be dead before the end of the year anyway, he could afford to put it from his mind for the time being.

It was going to be an eventful year, he mused.

 

* * *

 

 _ **February 1997**_

 

"I'm rather surprised to see you, Lupin, what with the demands on your time, these days," Severus said as he let the werewolf into his quarters.

"We're back to Lupin, are we?" Lupin shook his head and sighed ruefully. "I knew it was too good to last. What grave offence have I committed now, Severus?"

"I merely thought it was appropriate, given that you are affianced." Severus dropped into a chair by the fire and waved his hand at the other.

Lupin stared at him. "What on earth are you--" he stopped, then shook his head and began laughing. "Oh, God. If we all live through this, I'm going to kill Molly Weasley, if Tonks doesn't beat me to it."

"And what has Mrs. Weasley to do with your engagement?" he demanded.

"Everything, Severus," Lupin replied, taking the indicted seat. "Tonks has been my liaison, when I've been staying among the Packs. Her abilities make it relatively safe for her, but it does mean that we spend a fair amount of time together when I'm _not_ in the field, planning the next step and agreeing on rendezvous. Molly, bless her, has been watching us a little too closely for my comfort, and got it into her head that Tonks is in love with me!" Remus snorted. "I would have set her straight, but Tonks pointed out that at least it gives us a credible reason for spending time alone together and writing to each other when necessary." He shook his head and sighed. "If Tonks knew the gossip had spread this far, she'd be furious. Particularly as she's dating a handsome young man from the Ministry at the moment."

Severus had not realized how tense he had been until he relaxed at Remus's explanation. "I see. My apologies for attending to idle gossip."

Remus laughed. "Severus, you know that with Molly Weasley, gossip is anything but idle!" He tilted his head and studied Severus for a moment. "I'm sorry if you were...worried," he said.

"Worried? I have no cause to be worried," Severus protested. "We've hardly sworn eternal vows, after all!"

Remus smiled fondly, got out of his chair and came over to sit on the arm of Severus's. "I'll make it up to you, shall I?" he asked softly, kissing Severus on the brow.

Severus rolled his eyes, but part of him - the baser part, no doubt - was intrigued. "How?"

"Hm...well, I can't quite offer to wear your collar, I'm afraid," Remus said teasingly, then a speculative look came over his face. "It's a matter of trust, isn't it? Suppose I agree to try anything you'd like, tonight?"

Severus felt his cock twitch at the offer, and his mind raced with dozens of exotic practices he had read about over the years. He considered for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I believe I have the very thing," he said.

Remus smiled and kissed him again. "I'm all yours," he said.

 

* * *

 

Remus sat on the edge of Severus's bed and smiled up at him. "So, what do you have in mind?"

Severus took a heavy linen bag from the back of his wardrobe and pulled out the item he had purchased several years before, but never had taken the opportunity to try. "There is an ancient art, practiced in the Orient," he said, "that combines several elements of eroticism with magical craft and the underlying trust between the participants. It is quite revered in certain circles, and Muggles even practice a non-magical form of it, I'm told."

Remus was regarding him with curiosity and mounting desire. "Go on," he said huskily.

Severus pulled a skein of silken rope from the bag and held it in both hands.

Remus cocked his head. "You want to tie me to the bed?" he asked.

"Not exactly," Severus said. "Take off your clothes. All of them."

Remus smiled and undressed, folding his clothing and placing it on the dresser, and setting his shoes neatly on the floor alongside it. He stood before Severus, nude and unselfconscious.

Severus felt his cock harden as he looked, for the first time, really, at Remus's naked body, fully exposed to him. Remus was thin, but there was strength in his frame and lean muscle stretched over his bones. He was scarred of course, as Severus already knew. Severus almost reached out to trace the long-healed gash along Remus's ribs, where the silver knife had scored him, years ago, but knew that if he touched Remus they would never make use of the skein in his hands. He swallowed hard, but resolved to continue.

"On the bed, please, Remus," he instructed, "and kneel, facing away from me."

Remus complied, spreading his knees to maintain his balance on the bed, with his arms down by his sides.

Severus took the skein of rope and freed one end. He tapped it with his wand and watched in fascination as a golden shimmer ran through the entire length of the skein. When he stretched out a length of it and let go of the end, it remained floating in air, then slowly curled upward and turned toward him, as if awaiting instructions.

He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He unwound the cross wrappings and placed the loosened coil on the bed, between Remus's ankles. He ran his hands along Remus's legs, from ankles to hips, and whispered, "Bind him."

The glowing rope rose up like a trained cobra and slithered across the bed. Remus tensed as it touched him, then held perfectly still. The rope draped itself over Remus's right calf, zigzagging back and forth until it reached the knee, then returning and lacing itself through its folds, forming a knotted net around his leg.

As Severus watched in fascination, the far end of the rope lifted and repeated the process on Remus's left leg. The two ends then wound slowly around his thighs in unison, crossed over his hips and laced themselves down the opposite leg.

Remus was still holding his position. Severus walked around to the side of the bed and looked at him. He was trembling, very slightly, and his cock was jutting out in front of him, bobbing slightly with every breath.

"All right?" he asked quietly.

Remus nodded slowly.

Severus moved back to the foot of the bed and noted that the coil of rope appeared still to be as long as it had been before, despite the laced knot work all over Remus's legs. He put his hands on Remus's arms and pulled them back behind him, holding his wrists together. He let go, trusting Remus to hold the position, and again whispered, "Bind him."

The rope ends rose up and slithered along the insides of Remus's bound thighs, over his arse, up along his spine, and then separated and ran out to his shoulders. They slowly wove an intricate pattern over his arms and in the void from his shoulders to his elbows, snugging his arms together and finishing up at his wrists. Remus let out a small whimper.

Severus knelt behind him and wrapped his arms around Remus's torso. He traced the planes of Remus's chest, circled his nipples with his fingertips, and then smoothed the springy hair that led down his belly to his cock. He pressed his palms flat against Remus's lower abdomen, carefully not touching the straining cock, and whispered, "Bind him." He sat back on his heels and let the rope obey.

Remus gasped as the rope crawled up his sides and began weaving back and forth, forming a figure eight around his pectorals and drawing tight with a knot over his sternum. He tipped his head back as rope ends slithered down his belly and whipped to his sides, picking up bights of rope and drawing them tight, coiling and knotting and moving on, until it linked the mesh on his torso to the bindings on his legs.

Severus leaned forward to admire the traceries, then gently cupped Remus's scrotum and ran his hand along his erect cock. Remus whimpered, but made no other protest.

"Bind him."

The rope ends moved slowly and deliberately, slithering along Remus's groin, crossing over his perineum and lacing together on top of his bollocks, then ever so carefully knotting themselves along the length of his cock.

"Severus!" Remus gasped.

"Do you trust me?" Severus whispered in his ear.

"I--yes, I do," Remus nearly sobbed.

Severus bent and took one of the knots on Remus's shoulder between his teeth and tugged on it. Remus gasped again as each of the knots suddenly tightened. Severus ran his hands all over the bindings, feeling their snug security and Remus's taut flesh trapped in their mesh. Remus twitched and tipped his head back onto Severus's shoulder.

"God, Severus, please! Please! I need...I need you!"

Severus kissed his neck and sucked at the tender skin below his ear.

"Yes...please...more!"

He was shaking with anticipation, and Remus's needy pleas made his cock throb in response. He shrugged out of his robe and opened his trousers, then rubbed his cock along Remus's bound arse and against his hands. Remus tried to grasp him, but his wrists were snugly bound and all he could do was curl his fingers and let Severus slide his cock in and out of them. Remus was breathing heavily now, straining against the ropes, not to escape, but in a desperate attempt to get friction where he most needed it.

Severus slipped his hands between Remus's legs and press outward. The ropes flexed and twitched, pulling Remus's legs farther apart. He rasped out the preparatory spell, then could wait no longer. He set his cock to Remus's slippery arsehole and thrust in.

Remus shouted and Severus felt his fingers scrabbling against his shirt. He hooked his fingers into the ropes over Remus's hips and pulled him back onto his cock, then ran a fingertip along the bindings over Remus's neglected organ. "Dance," he gasped, as he began to thrust. The bindings at Remus's groin shimmered, then began to tighten and loosen in a rhythmic sequence, speeding up until they matched Severus's tempo.

Remus was arching back, trying to take Severus deeper and thrust against the rippling ropes at the same time. Severus wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his nipples. "Shhh...I have you, Remus," he whispered. "Let it happen."

Remus shuddered as Severus moved his hands lower and closed his fists over the pulsing ropes. They stilled, then drew tighter, making Remus cry out, then fell away as Severus ran the edge of his nail over them. Severus wrapped his hands around Remus's cock and stroked.

Remus screamed and came. His whole body jolted as if he had been hit by a violent curse. Severus held him tightly and let the spasms take him over the edge as well.

 

* * *

 

They might have both passed out for a moment, Severus realized as he opened his eyes. Remus was slumped against him, still bound, but limp in his arms. Severus commanded, "unbind!" and the rope knots instantly loosened. The intricate weavings unwoven much quicker than they had formed, and the rope coiled itself back into a tidy skein, lying innocently on the bed.

Severus looked at it and shivered. He tossed it onto the dresser and eased Remus down onto the bed, checking his extremities to make sure the circulation had not been cut off. He breathed a sigh of relief as he confirmed that the device's safety constraints had worked as advertised. Remus's body was pattered all over in fascinating diamonds and triangles of tan and pink and red, where the rope had bound him, but they would fade soon enough, with no permanent markings or damage.

Severus stretched out beside Remus and ran one hand down a diamond-patterned leg. He didn't want to think too much about why he had wanted Remus bound, at his mercy; there were any number of ugly names for such feelings. He was pleased, though, that Remus had offered and then accepted whatever he had wanted to do.

He supposed that they _did_ trust each other, after all.

A pity it wouldn't survive the school year, he thought, then pushed the thought away. He pulled a blanket over both of them and drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 _**September, 1997** _

 

Severus sat in the Headmaster's office, idly incinerating howlers and less strident letters alike. He paused when he recognized the handwriting on one. He had never thought to see another letter from A Friend, and he briefly considered immolating it along with the rest.

Curiosity or masochism prevailed, however, and he opened it.

 

 _Dear Severus,_

 _I hardly know what to say. The world has turned upside down; the Ministry has fallen; Harry Potter is being sought for treason...I know I need not continue. I suppose congratulations on your appointment as Headmaster are in order. Consider them offered, if you like._

 _There is only one thing that keeps me from utter despair, Severus, and that is knowing that once before, I failed to trust when I should have, and I will never know how many people suffered for that mistake. I have known you too many years to take you at face value, and all I can do now is try to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past._

 _In spite of everything, I still wish you well._

 _A Friend_

 

Severus burned it quickly. But before chasing the owl away, he penned a quick response.

 

 _Dear Friend,_

 _In times such as these, it is best for each to find his own path. It would be best if you did not write to me again._

 _A resolution will come in due time, whether we are here to see it or not._

 _S. Snape  
_

 

* * *

 

 **_June, 1998_ **

 

 _He was adrift in greyness, a milk-pale sky above him and a slowly shifting, featureless sea beneath him. Images came and went: a smiling girl with red pigtails, a grim-featured man with heavy fists, a worn woman with a worried face... They faded into grey mist, to be replaced by the jeering faces of teenaged boys, a haughty man with an aura of power about him, a white-bearded man in purple robes..._

 _They had names, he was sure, but they all eluded him, as insubstantial as the swirling fog._

 _Blazing red eyes, flashing green fire, a huge, hideous snake...he perceived them with odd detachment, vaguely aware that they were threatening, but had no power over him. The grey mist banished them and he was adrift again._

 _There was a young man with sparkling grey eyes and an engaging smile, who spoke to him with silent words...and a mature man, his gently smiling face marked with scars that did not diminish his attractiveness, who said nothing at all, but held out his hand, waiting..._

 _He wondered what they wanted of him._

 _The greyness thinned, and he thought there were flashes of colour and light beyond it. The two men receded with the grey mist, and he tried to call them back, but he had no voice. He wanted to reach out, but his arms were lost in the infinite sea._

 

"I think he's coming around, Minerva." The sound was so sudden that he almost missed the shadows deepening and concentrating before him. Scent returned next - sharp, sweet, pungent, green - medicinal smells, some awakening corner of his mind identified them.

"Severus?" Then touch - a cool, smooth hand on his brow, brushing back his hair. Another curling around his wrist...the flutter of a pulse...a terrible dryness, choking him...he tried to speak again, but his tongue barely moved.

"Here, Severus; here's water," the voice said, and wetness, blessed wetness, coated his parched lips and slid into his mouth, bathing his tongue and refreshing his flesh. He choked, then swallowed greedily. "Careful now, just a sip...yes, another...and another. That's enough now." A hand rested on his forehead for a moment, giving him enough of a focus to locate the proper commands and attempt opening his eyes.

A tired, worn-looking woman smiled down at him. "Glad to see you're back among us, Severus. No, don't try to talk," she said, gently laying a finger across his lips. "Your throat is still healing. It's going to be quite a while before we hear your dulcet tones again, I'm afraid."

Another woman, older, and looking equally tired, stepped close and patted his shoulder, "Severus...I'm so glad...so very glad you're with us still. Poppy's right; you've a great deal of healing still to do, but you've come a long, long way from the condition you were in when Harry brought you to me. He thought you were dead, you see..." She blinked a few times, then continued in an extra-cheerful tone, "Well, what you need now is plenty of rest. I'll check in on you again later on." She patted his shoulder again, paused and kissed him gently on the forehead, then turned away.

There was a commotion somewhere off to his right. Severus tried to turn his head, but something held him still.

"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey! Quick, come quickly!" The new voice was high pitched and almost frenzied.

He heard the two women run toward the new voice, then the first -- _ah, yes, Poppy, Poppy Pomfrey, of course!_ \-- Poppy snapped out briskly, "Stand clear! _Levicorpus!_ Lovegood! Granger! Spell damage tonic! Quickly! And cast a warming charm on that bed! He's shocky!"

People were running back and forth, scrambling and shouting, and at least one person was having hysterics until someone slapped him out of it. In moments, Poppy seemed to have the situation under control. "That's done it for now. Clear out, all of you. I'll send for help when I need it!"

The rest trailed out, rather reluctantly, and Poppy finally gave a deep sigh of relief. She came back over to Severus and spooned a truly noxious-tasting gel into his mouth. He swallowed the thick, foul stuff with some difficulty. She held a glass of water to his lips, and he drank thirstily, anxious to cleanse the taste from his mouth.

"Well, Severus, it seems the Fates are generous in handing out miracles, after that horrible battle," she said, smiling at him. "First you survived almost certain death, and now Remus seems to be coming back from the dead." She shook her head in amazement. "Get some sleep," she advised him. "You're healing well, and you'll be back on your feet before you know it."

 

* * *

 

His mind was still somewhat muzzy, but once banished, the grey mist did not return. It was replaced by a tiresome regimen of broth and potions and spell therapy, and Poppy and her assistants poking and prodding him at odd hours, punctuated by brief visits from some of his erstwhile colleagues and students, most of them too embarrassed or emotional to do more than stand beside him and hang their heads or sniffle.

His periods of wakefulness were brief, but grew longer each day, and finally Poppy deemed him conscious enough to hear the tale of the Dark Lord's final defeat, and stable enough to hear the list of casualties. He took what comfort he could from the fact that Lily's son had survived, despite Dumbledore's machinations, but the deaths of so many young witches and wizards weighed heavily on him.

As for his own "miraculous" survival, Poppy attributed it to the combination of the precautionary course of antivenin he had begun taking months earlier, and the powerfully charmed talisman he wore around his neck, carefully hidden beneath concealment spells. She had discovered it during her examination of him and pressed her hand over it to let him know it was still safely in place.

His progress in regaining control of his body and his voice was too slow to suit him, but Poppy chided him for his impatience. "Severus Snape, despite the blather that's been aired in this ward over the past few days, you are certainly neither indestructible nor super human! You're going to remain in that bed and under my care until _I_ say you are well enough to be discharged! Is that perfectly clear?"

She was fortunate he could not voice the words that sprang to mind at her lecture.

 

* * *

 

A few days later, he woke to find Remus Lupin sitting in a chair beside his bed.

Remus looked worse than he had ever seen him, pale as a wraith, with deep purple hollows under his eyes and an air of fragility about him. He looked up as Severus stirred, and managed a wan smile. "It's good to see you, Severus," he said, reaching out a shaking hand to touch him.

Severus could manage a few sounds, but nothing intelligible. He did not dare attempt legilimency to communicate - after the one time he had tried it, the resulting headache had nearly sent him into a coma, and Poppy had threatened to sedate him for a month if he did it again.

Remus did not seem to expect a reply, however. He sat back in the chair and sighed. "Poppy tells me she gave you an account of the battle and told you what happened to Harry," he said.

Severus looked intently at him and deliberately blinked once.

Remus nodded in understanding. "I wanted to tell you how sorry I am, Severus - so bloody sorry for the burden you had to bear all alone, this past year. I wish I could have done something to help...and I wish you could have trusted me enough to tell me the truth."

Severus blinked twice, rapidly.

"I know; you hadn't much choice." He shook his head sadly. "I also have to tell you...you may have heard that Tonks and I were married, last summer?"

Severus just stared at him, then slowly blinked once.

"It's...complicated. I won't burden you with the details, except to say that it was the best solution to a complicated situation. We were married very soon after...Dumbledore's death. In hindsight, I think we each thought we were protecting the other. Her lover had been attached to the Minister's office, working on identifying Death Eater infiltrators. When he was killed...I thought marrying her would deflect their attention, or at least make them underestimate her; I suppose she thought I needed the appearance of legitimacy for our cover story."

Severus blinked again, slowly.

Remus sighed. "We...we were good friends, and she gave her life for mine, in the end." He hunched forward, hanging his head. "She had a baby, this spring; he's with his grandmother now. I haven't spoken to Andromeda yet, but...Teddy is my responsibility, and I will look after him to the best of my ability."

Severus closed his eyes, grateful that he was unable to speak; he surely would have said any number of things for which he would never have forgiven himself, otherwise.

"Remus! What are you doing out of bed, you stubborn, foolish man? Honestly, you're as bad as Severus! You may have survived enough curses to kill four other men, but you get yourself right back to bed this instant and stay there until I say otherwise!"

Severus opened his eyes to see Poppy scolding Remus out of his chair and presumably back to his own hospital bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite Poppy's protests, Remus came to sit by his bed for a little while every day. He had either managed to talk his way around Poppy, or she had given up on him in disgust. Either way, she permitted it, and Severus found he looked forward to spending that time with Remus each day.

Remus rambled on about the latest news of the wizarding world, books he had read, gossip from a wide variety of sources, and, rarely, about the war itself, and Tonks.

He was telling an amusing anecdote about Tonks's disastrous attempt to prepare an elaborate dinner, and was chuckling fondly as he described her chasing a live lobster around the kitchen, when he suddenly stopped, buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

Severus, who had just graduated to sitting upright, tried to say something, but managed only a croak.

Remus shook his head, his shoulders still heaving with emotion. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry," he said brokenly. "I...I didn't..."

"Ll...love...her?" Severus forced out. The words were thick on his tongue, but the first understandable utterance he had managed.

Remus drew a deep breath and let it out again. He rubbed his face and looked up, meeting Severus's eyes. "Yes," he said sadly, "And no. I _did_ love her, very much...but as a dear friend. She knew it; she felt the same way, and she knew I could never give her more than that. Then, when her young man was killed, she was grieving so...and everything else went to hell afterwards..."

Severus worked his tongue and managed to swallow, clearing his throat. "Your ss--sson?"

Remus shrugged and gave a wan smile. "He could be; I never asked. She gave him my name."

Severus closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing normally. He heard Remus stand, then felt his presence at the side of the bed.

"Severus...I..." His voice was thick with emotion; he kissed Severus's brow gently, pressed another kiss to his cheek, then leaned his forehead against Severus's. "I never loved Tonks the way I love you," he said huskily.

Hot tears dripped onto Severus's face. He gathered his strength and groped until he caught hold of Remus's hand. Remus's fingers tightened on his. "Re--musss," he managed, with effort. "G-glad...didn'...die..." He swallowed hard again and slumped, nearly panting from the exertion.

Remus's free arm wrapped around him and held him tight, as Remus wept.

When Poppy came by, an hour later, she found them both asleep, Remus curled in a chair pulled close to the bed, their fingers entwined. She merely smiled and threw a blanket over the sleeping werewolf.

 

* * *

 

Remus was discharged a week or so before Poppy would grant Severus's release. He had a great deal of work to do, as Minister Shacklebolt wanted his help in organizing the new but promised to come by frequently to visit, until Severus was free to go as well.

He had other visitors, which rather surprised him. Potter came by as often as Poppy would allow, or Severus would tolerate. He had brought a flask of Severus's memories on his first visit, and awkwardly apologised for a variety of offences, real and imagined. Severus was feeling either magnanimous or too tired, and merely waved a dismissive hand at the over-earnest youth, pardoning him. Since then, the visits had been diverting, even though Potter's obsession with his deceased parents bordered on unhealthy, in Severus's opinion.

Potter brought a large sack with him on one visit and explained that it contained his accumulated mail since the end of the war.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Burn it," he croaked.

"I would have, sir," Potter said, "if they were howlers, but a lot of these seem to be...er...the opposite?" He fished a bright pink envelope out of the sack. Magical painted flowers bloomed all around the edge of the envelope, and as Potter brought it closer to him, butterflies and tiny winged hearts appeared, fluttering over the flowers and circling the seal.

Severus groaned in disgust.

"You see what I mean?"

"Burn it!" he insisted.

"There could be some legitimate correspondence in here," the boy objected, "or some threats that ought to be taken seriously. I have an idea, though. Hermione's really good at indexing and classification spells. With your permission, I can ask her to sort them, magically, of course, by intent or something. The howlers and...er...huggers," he said, grinning at the absurd pink envelope, "we can just destroy. The dangerous threats we can send to the Ministry, and the rest you can read whenever you like."

"Or burn at my leisure," Severus grunted. "Very well. Leave the sorted missives for me to dispose of or forward as needed. The house elves can arrange suitable storage, I'm sure."

Potter nodded and left, presumably to set Granger to work.

 

* * *

 _**August, 1998** _

 

Poppy had given him permission to move from the Hospital Wing back to his old quarters, under strict instructions to see her every day for his spell therapy and potions. With the restrictions she had put upon him, there was little else he could do but read and doze. He still tired very easily, but Poppy assured him he was making progress. His complete recovery might take months, she warned him, but given he had been mostly dead a short time ago, it was an excellent prognosis.

It was good to sit in his own chair, sleep in his own bed and use his own bathroom, but he was soon chafing for something to do. Eventually, he grew bored enough to tackle the neatly stacked piles of correspondence the elves had delivered to his study.

Granger had done a creditable job, he decided, as he reviewed the categories. There was a large pile of howlers under a shimmering stasis spell. As he held out his hand toward it, glowing letters appeared in mid-air above the pile.

 **"Professor, the stasis spell will destroy these howlers on your command. The activation word is 'DUNDERHEADS.'"**

He snorted. There was nothing to be gained from listening to the hysterical screeds of the masses, so he stepped back and said, "Dunderheads!"

The stasis spell flashed brightly, then vanished, taking the howlers with it. Quite efficient, he noted. A pity he could not give Granger house points for the effort, he thought, smirking slightly.

The stack of multicoloured, decorated, scented, animated and otherwise nauseatingly enchanted correspondence was fully as tall as the pile of howlers had been. A somewhat less powerful containment spell kept them from fluttering about. His proximity triggered another glowing notation.

 **"Offers of matrimony and less formal romantic liaisons. The activation word is 'APPALLING.'"**

Severus almost snickered; he could almost hear Granger's fussy disapproval. He gave the activation word and watched as the colourful parchments were shredded within the containment field, before the shreds burst into flames and vanished.

The remaining stacks were smaller and Granger had apparently not felt it necessary to cast wards over them. As he waved a hand over each pile, their glowing labels appeared: **"Threats," "Get Well Wishes - General," "Career and Business Opportunities," "Political,"** and **"Personal."** There were only a few of the latter.

He picked up the stack of Threats, settled into his comfortable chair with a cup of hot tea at hand, and amused himself for the next couple of hours by correcting the grammar, spelling, and logical errors in each of them.

 

* * *

 

What with his lack of stamina, therapy sessions, visits from Remus and others, it took him several days to get to the "Personal" correspondence. There was a note from the Malfoys, wishing him a speedy convalescence and trying not to gush with thanks for his protection of Draco. He snorted and tossed it aside. They had very carefully not mentioned _anything_ about allegiances or betrayals. Malfoys always landed on their feet, eventually, even if they had to twist into improbable positions to manage it.

 

He skimmed the remaining letters and stopped in surprise at the familiar writing on one.

 

 _"Dear Severus,_

 _It's still sinking in: it's over, finally _over._ Thank Merlin, thank Salazar, thank God - thank whatever Powers that watched over our world and brought us through this long, hideous nightmare. _

I am more thankful than I can say that you are there, alive and safe, able to hold my words in your hands and know that I am here, thinking of you. I wish it were my heart I could send you, but you have had that in your keeping for years. You may laugh, but someday - soon, I hope - we will be together again, and I can show you how true it is.

Freedom...we're finally free, to live and love and work toward a better world!

 

With all my love,

 

A Friend

 

He frowned. There was no date on the letter, and Remus had been to see him only the day before... He set it aside with a shrug. Remus must have been in his cups when he'd written it.

 

* * *

 

 _**December, 1998** _

 

Severus leaned slightly on the walking stick as he and Remus left the restaurant. He used it only when out in public, particularly in Muggle areas, and more to keep fools at a distance than from any particular need for its steadying influence. He _was_ still slightly prone to occasional dizziness, but the episodes rarely occurred more than once a week now, if that.

Dinner had been very enjoyable - good food, excellent wine, and very... _stimulating_ company. He cast a leering glance at Remus's arse, nicely set off by the smooth charcoal trousers he wore.

The past few months had been a novel experience for Severus. He had left Hogwarts, despite offers of any position he preferred, including Headmaster, and had spent some of his savings to purchase a small cottage and acreage, with several outbuildings suitable for converting to laboratory space and storage facilities. He was in no hurry; his pension from the Ministry was more than adequate to his needs, but he intended to set up a proper laboratory and resume his experimental potions research, with perhaps a small sideline of specialty potions offered on consignment or via owl-order to select customers.

In the interim, he had been regaining his strength, furnishing his cottage, reviewing the latest potions literature...and seeing a great deal of Remus Lupin.

He supposed one might call it courting, if one wished to put a name to it. Or dating, perhaps. He and Remus had never bothered to classify it, when they had fallen into the habit of spending several evenings together each week. They took turns cooking or dined out, returned to his cottage or Remus's flat, had a pleasant nightcap or two, and spent the nights shagging.

They had not raised the issue of cohabitation...at least not yet. Severus thought Remus probably was reluctant, for Teddy's sake, to propose such a big step, but personally, he did not find the prospect of sharing living space with Remus distasteful, even if Teddy were part of the bargain. The boy was still an infant, but he was less objectionable than most of the children Severus had encountered in his years of teaching, despite his not being quite housebroken yet.

Remus put an arm around him as they strolled down the block and around the corner, then stole a quick kiss before they apparated to the cottage. Severus sighed in relief as the warmth of his sitting room enveloped them. Remus helped him off with his coat and hung their outerwear on hooks by the door, as Severus brought out the snifters and brandy.

The mailbox on the mantle gave a warning rattle as Remus accepted the glass of brandy Severus held out to him.

"More howlers?" he asked.

Severus snorted. "They're getting tired; I had only a dozen, all last week. I used to get that many in a day." He drew his wand and cast his usual spell on the box. It opened, and the frustrated howlers steamed and squealed as they were spat forth through a magical grating that shredded and incinerated them, depositing the ash into the fireplace. The mailbox calmed down and Severus removed another small pile of correspondence.

"I'll sort these in the morning," he said, setting them aside. "Occasionally the offers are entertaining; and the threats are even better."

"You really should hand those over to the Ministry, Severus," Remus said in concern. "There are still Death Eaters at large, and Kingsley would very much like to round them up and get the dangerous ones behind bars."

Severus rolled his eyes. "If I sent every threatening letter off to the Ministry, they'd soon lock me away as a paranoid lunatic - or an insufferable nuisance. I've more than enough enemies left, Remus; there will _always_ be threats."

Remus sighed and stepped close, putting his arms around Severus. "I'm sorry," he said, nuzzling Severus's neck. "I just wish I could make them all go away."

Severus closed his eyes and enjoyed the electric thrill that raced down his spine at the touch of Remus's lips. "I'm sure you can think of...something...to distract me," he murmured.

Remus reached for his glass and set them both on the end table, then without a word, scooped Severus up in his arms and carried him to the bedroom. He wasn't given to displaying his unnatural strength often, Severus knew, but did it because Severus rather enjoyed it. It had come as a surprise to Severus as well, the first time the dizzying weakness had struck when Remus was with him, and Remus had caught him in his arms, lifted him and solicitously carried him to the couch. Severus had found his pulse racing and his cock at full attention as he was held safely in those incredibly strong arms, and had seduced him there on the couch.

Now he savoured the feeling of Remus's arms around him, and the warmth of their bodies together as Remus carried him. He nosed Remus's neck and nipped at his jaw, making Remus growl playfully. He took Remus's earlobe between his teeth and tugged on it. Remus giggled and pushed the bedroom door open with one hip, then tossed Severus onto the bed and pounced on him.

They squirmed about like teenagers for a few moments, snorting with laughter, before Remus pinned him to the bed with his hips and kissed him thoroughly.

Severus threw his head back and pulled his shirt open, letting Remus kiss his way down along his throat. He covered the tender scar tissue with gentle kisses, then moved to the hollow of Severus's throat and lapped at the soft skin.

Their hands were busy undoing buttons and zips and helping each other out of their clothes. Remus's jumper went flying, followed by shoes, then socks, trousers and everything else. Severus took hold of Remus's hardened cock and stroked it vigorously, as Remus summoned the lube from the nightstand and dipped his fingers in for a thick dollop.

Severus let go, rolled onto his side and pulled one knee forward, to let Remus slide his slick fingers in more easily. He made a pleased noise as Remus coated his arsehole thoroughly, then wriggled his fingers in, stroking them in and out. He took up more lube with his free hand and slathered his cock.

"Yes," Severus cried as he felt Remus position himself and push in, "Remus! Yes! God, yes!"

Remus spooned up behind him, hooking one knee over Severus's top leg and wrapping his arms around him. One hand encircled Severus's cock, stroking it as he thrust in and out; the other rubbed gently over his chest, toying with his nipples and sparse black hair.

Severus arched back against Remus and moaned as pleasure surged through him at every thrust. Remus sucked gently on his shoulder, and he reached behind him to pull Remus closer, deeper. His other hand wrapped around Remus's where it slid up and down his cock. Their fingers laced together and continued stroking. Remus set a slow, steady pace with hands and hips, until they were rocking together, all limbs deliciously entwined.

The pleasure built and built, slow but powerful, until it crested and broke over them. Remus cried out and bit him, hard, and his hips shuddered against Severus as he came. Severus groaned loudly and gripped Remus's hand, thrusting his cock through their fingers faster and faster, until he suddenly tensed, and spasms shook him as well.

They kept moving together as the waves of jolting pleasure shook them and slowly ebbed, then stilled and lay replete.

Remus shifted his leg and slipped out of Severus, kissing the bite mark he had left on his shoulder. "Mmmm...God, I love you," he mumbled, snuggling close.

Severus stretched and yawned, reached for his wand and tidied them both, then flicked the bedding into place over them. "Budge up," he grumbled as he settled into position.

Remus chuckled sleepily and adjusted, until they were comfortably wrapped in each other's arms.

As he drifted off to sleep, it occurred to Severus that for the first time he could recall, life felt very, very good.

 

* * *

 

Remus had breakfast ready when Severus emerged from the bath the next morning. He rubbed his hair dry and wrapped his favourite bathrobe around himself, then followed his nose to the kitchen, where sausages and eggs were sizzling in a pan and tea was steeping on the table.

They ate in companionable quiet, punctuated by occasional requests to pass the jam or pour the tea. Remus read Severus's morning _Prophet_ , while Severus sorted through the mail from the day before.

He snorted at one ludicrous note and read an excerpt aloud, " _...and then we'll dip you in Burning Solution, and feed you to a nundu!_ " He looked across the table at Remus. "Now what makes them think a nundu would eat anything coated in Burning Solution? For that matter, why bother with the nundu at all? Unless they happen to have one handy that is in need of a meal - and if so, how are they containing it?"

Remus eyed him over the newspaper. "They've clearly not given this the proper thought or research."

"Indeed." Severus tossed the letter in the fire and picked up another. "Now, this one is less imaginative, but more mercenary. Promising to torture me to death - no particular method specified, although it suggests I will spend my last hours screaming for mercy - and a vow to 'make the Ministry pay.' I seriously doubt the Ministry would pay this idiot anything for torturing me; if they want it done, they have people for that sort of thing, no matter what Shacklebolt says. Failure of reasoning, I'm afraid. Also, the spelling is atrocious, as always. I've had half a dozen letters from this particular fool, and it never improves."

Remus shook his head and poured them more tea. "I don't know why you read those things, Severus. Or why you won't send them to the Ministry."

Severus rolled his eyes and picked up another letter, then stopped, regarding the familiar writing. He opened it with a mild frown.

 

 _Dear Severus,_

 _I never received a response to my last, but I hope that you have fully recovered from your injuries. The accounts I have been able to find are frustratingly vague._

 _I wanted to let you know that my long exile is nearing an end. I have made arrangements to return home, and I am very anxious to see you. It has been too long - an eternity! - since we were together; seeing you again is almost more than I can bear to think of, lest I wake and find it all a dream._

 _I will be back in England on Thursday; please let me know where to find you._

 _Overcome by anticipation,_

 _A Friend_

 

Deeply puzzled, Severus looked across the table, where Remus was munching a sausage. "Remus...what did you mean by this?"

"Hm?" Remus looked up inquisitively, and Severus handed him the letter. He chewed thoughtfully as he read, then slowly re-read the letter. "Severus," he said slowly, "I'm afraid I didn't write this."

"You didn't? But..." Severus took the letter back and examined it again. The writing was identical, the parchment the same sort it had always been, as was the nondescript seal. A cold feeling coiled around his stomach. "Remus...when was the last time you wrote to me?" Severus asked, a look of growing concern on his face.

"I...well, I suppose I might have written you a note or two when I was at Hogwarts...or maybe that last year before Sirius died..." Remus trailed off at the look on Severus's face. "Why? What's wro-- Severus, why did you think this letter was from me?"

Severus frowned. "I've been corresponding with 'A Friend,' this anonymous writer, for years...at nearly twenty years, in fact. I...well, there were indications...I thought..." he flushed and forced himself to continue. "I thought it was you, almost from the beginning."

Remus looked alarmed. "I haven't been writing you, Severus. I'm not much of a letter-writer, and I've certainly not been keeping up a correspondence for twenty years!"

Severus stood with his brow furrowed, then shrugged. "It must be one of our old classmates who fled the country around the time of the Dark Lord's. The first letter I received was shortly after my acquittal."

"Whoever it is...he or she certainly seems...fonder of you than I would expect from just an old classmate," Remus observed.

"Self-deception and an overactive imagination, no doubt," Severus said dismissively. "Still, it is quite curious. I look forward to finding out who I've been corresponding with, all these years."

"You can't mean to meet with him!" Remus was shocked. "Severus, this could easily be a trap! You said yourself that you've no shortage of enemies! Someone you've never met writes and suggests a rendezvous, and you're planning to go, just like that?" Remus stared at him as if he had suddenly professed a life-long desire to become a ballet dancer.

"Of course I'm going," he said. "If this 'Friend,' meant me harm, he's had nearly twenty years to plan his attack. It would be a shame to deny him the opportunity." At Remus's look of horror, he shook his head. "It isn't going to be a trap, Remus, but I swear to you I will take every possible precaution, regardless of my scepticism."

Remus relaxed slightly. "You'll let me know where you'll be, just in case?"

Severus rolled his eyes, then summoned parchment, ink and quill from his desk. "I'll let you read the reply," he said, shaking his head in amused exasperation.

 

 _Dear Friend,_

 _I admit I was quite surprised to receive your letter. Thank you for your concern; I have recovered completely from most of my injuries and my healer assures me the remainder are only a matter of time._

 _I have only just discovered I have been labouring under a delusion regarding our correspondence, but I quite look forward to meeting you._

 _I will be at the Three Tuns, in Diagon Alley, Thursday afternoon at one o'clock. I am sure we have a great deal to discuss._

 _S. Snape_

 

Remus was somewhat placated by being shown the letter before Severus sent it. "You will be careful, Severus? I don't want one of these threatening idiots catching you off guard." Severus ignored his fretting and kissed him as he put on his coat and wrapped his muffler around his neck.

"I'm picking up Teddy later today, but I'll see you Thursday evening, all right?"

"Of course. What do you say to a Greek dinner? There's a new taverna I wouldn't mind trying," Severus said. "And we can bring some baklava back for dessert, afterwards."

Remus gave him a playful growl and nipped at his nose. "Sounds delicious. I'll meet you here at seven, and we can apparate." His parting kiss was a promissory note. Severus watched him walk down the path and apparate just before he reached the garden gate. "Show-off," he muttered fondly.

The mystery of the letters troubled him more than he cared to let Remus know. He had always been an intensely private man who guarded his personal life very closely. He had never said _too_ much in his letters, but what he had said was uncomfortably personal and private. It had been hard enough to write such things to Remus, as he had thought he was doing; the notion of pouring out all the years of frustration, fear and loneliness to an anonymous stranger gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

* * *

 

Severus arrived half an hour early for the rendezvous with his mysterious "Friend" and spent the time carefully studying the facility for trap spells, curses or unexplained power sources, and making a thorough assessment of the patrons present. He finally selected a suitable table and sat, waiting for his guest to arrive.

A witch and her son entered a few moments later, followed shortly by a disreputable-looking wizard who shambled to a table in a corner. Just a few moments before one, the sound of someone apparating came from outside. The door opened, and a tall, good looking man in his thirties stepped inside. His wavy black hair flowed to his shoulders, and he had a neatly trimmed moustache and goatee. He looked around the pub searchingly, then spotted Severus sitting toward the back of the room. His face lit up with a glorious smile, and he hurried toward him.

Severus rose as the stranger approached. He had a vaguely familiar appearance, and Severus kept trying to remove the man's facial hair mentally, for a better assessment of what he would have looked like twenty years ago.

"Severus!" The stranger held out both hands and grasped Severus's warmly. He held them a moment, closing his eyes, then let go and, to Severus's astonishment, threw both arms around him and hugged him tight. Severus stood shock-still, bewildered by the demonstrative greeting. "Oh, God...Severus, it's been so long!" The man rested his head on Severus's shoulder and squeezed him. "For the longest time, I was certain I'd never see you again!"

Severus finally pulled back and studied the stranger closely.

He had the bronzed look of a man who spent a great deal of time out of doors. His cool grey eyes were bright with emotion, as they lingered on Severus's face, and his generous mouth stretched in a smile so wide it must have hurt. As Severus stared at him, the smile faltered slightly. The stranger hung his head for a moment, then looked at him again. "You don't recognize me at all, do you, love?" His smile was wistful now. "Oh, Severus, it's me, it's _Regulus_!"

Severus felt a deep chill. Either this _was_ some sort of attempted trap, or the man was mad. "The only Regulus I ever knew died, nineteen years ago," he said flatly.

The man nodded, his eyes bright with tears. "Yes, I know. I'm sorry, Severus. God, I'm so sorry! I would have told you, but it was too dangerous, for both of us. If He had learned I was still alive..." he shuddered. "There was nothing else I could do. I had to 'die,' or He would have destroyed everyone I cared for, trying to find me." His hands were still on Severus's arms. "Let me show you," he said softly, and stared deeply into Severus's eyes. " _Legilimens!_ "

 

 _  
He was in agony, parched and sickened, his vision blurring and his terror rising as the Inferi clutched at him with their rotted, undead hands..._

 _Kreacher was rocking back and forth and keening in distress..._

 _He screamed in pain, as the Inferi raked him with their claws... "Home! Kreacher! Take me - home!"_

 _Kreacher clung to him and screeched, "Yes, Master!" and the world dissolved into grey nothingness._

 _* * *_

 _His face was wet with tears as he packed the one gift he had from Severus, a non-dripping, non-spotting, self-correcting Notable Notations Quill, with its everlasting inkwell. He tucked it carefully into the small sack of items he dared take with him, then slung the sack over his shoulder and turned back to Kreacher._

 _The old house elf was admiring the gold locket given into his trust, turning it this way and that, and rubbing its worn case on the hem of his tea towel to bring up the lustre._

 _"Kreacher, you have done very well, and the House of Black is grateful. There is just one more thing..._ Obliviate! _"_

 _* * *_

 _He sat at a worn wooden table, reading a week-old copy of the_ Daily Prophet, _his throat tight as he read the accounts of the Death Eater trials. He put the paper aside and buried his face in his hands for a moment, then summoned parchment and his quill and began to write._

 _**Dear Severus,** _

_**I apologise for not writing sooner, but the news of your acquittal has just reached me...** _

* * *

 

The spell released him. Severus rocked back onto his heels, mind reeling. "Regulus," he whispered. Everything went grey and the world spun around him. He lurched to one side and would have fallen, but the stranger _\- no, not a stranger, not dead, not dead, Regulus! -_ caught him and eased him down onto his chair with gentle care.

Severus held his head in his hands until his vision stopped swimming. Finally, he looked across the table at the formerly-deceased Regulus Black. "I...can't believe it. All these years...all these years you've been alive! Where the bloody hell have you _been?_ "

Regulus gave him an apologetic look. "Around and about Europe for the most part. I finally settled down in San Marino. I've a small villa up on Monte Titano, in Montelupo. Good for growing grapes and herbs; I make some wine and specialty charms for the local wizarding community. It's a quiet life, but good."

Severus shook his head in wonder. "All those letters - you couldn't have told me? Not even... No. No, you're right; of course you couldn't. You were the one who switched that...abomination in the cave. If the Dark Lord had discovered that, he would have killed as many people as it took to find you and recover his trinket." He sighed. "We had better order. I need a drink."

They flagged down a waiter and ordered shepherd's pie and two pints. The food arrived quickly, and they found it easier to talk over the meal. The lost years gave them plenty of fodder for the conversation, and the time flew as they spoke of details they had not been able to give each other in their letters.

Finally, Severus drained his pint and regarded Regulus. "So, why are you here, now, after so long? You could have written; it might have taken a few letters, but eventually you would have convinced me," he said. "It sounds as though you are quite happy in San Marino; why come back now?"

"Why?" Regulus looked astonished that he would even ask. He leaned across the small table and said intently, "For you, Severus, of course! Now that the Dark Lord is finally, truly gone, we are free! And after all these years apart, we can be together again!" He cupped Severus's face in his hands and kissed him.

 

* * *

Remus slipped into the Three Tuns just before one o'clock, wearing a glamour that gave him the appearance of a grizzled wizard with rheumy eyes. He shuffled to a table in a corner, where he could watch both the door and Severus's table, and ordered a pint. When he heard the soft plosion of someone apparating in front of the pub, he was instantly alert, watching the door.

The wizard who entered wore robes of a vaguely foreign cut, not new, but well-made. He scanned the room, then smiled and headed toward Severus. The air currents disturbed by his brisk walk brought a waft of his scent to Remus, who breathed it in deeply and rocked back in his seat, astonished.

It _couldn't_ be...he was dead, and so was Sirius... Perhaps a cousin, or a bastard half-brother? He stared at the man, watched as he wrapped his arms around Severus and practically wept on his shoulder.

Remus shook himself and fished a small object out of his pocket. He hadn't intended to use it unless absolutely necessary, but... He held one and let the Extendible Ear stretch itself out across the tavern floor, until it was within range of Severus's table.

Severus was staring at the man, his face a stony mask. "...Regulus I ever knew died, nineteen years ago."

The stranger's voice was reminiscent of Sirius's, though full of emotion. "Yes, I know. I'm sorry, Severus. God, I'm so sorry! I would have told you, but it was too dangerous, for both of us. If He had learned I was still alive... There was nothing else I could do. I had to 'die,' or He would have destroyed everyone I cared for, trying to find me."

He was gripping Severus's arms. Remus took hold of his wand and prepared to cast a stunning spell.

"Let me show you. _Legilimens!_ "

Severus went rigid for a moment, his eyes locked with the stranger's. Remus did not dare hex the man while he held the connection, lest he harm Severus in the process. In mere moments, however, the stranger closed his eyes, and Severus staggered back.

"Regulus," he whispered, then wove back and forth, and collapsed into the other man's arms. Remus jumped up, but the stranger only held Severus gently and helped him to his seat.

Severus seemed to recover fairly quickly, though he rested his head in his hands for several moments before looking up again. Remus sat back down, his heart pounding, and tried to listen.

"I...can't believe it. All these years...all these years you've been alive! Where the bloody hell have you _been?_ "

Remus listened as the man claiming to be Regulus spun his tale. Before long, he and Severus were deep in conversation, hashing over the past twenty years and reminiscing. Remus began to relax his guard, although a different sort of fear was creeping into his chest. Severus seemed so animated, so... _happy._ After all these years, Remus could not help but realize that he had hardly ever seen the sarcastic, usually dour Slytherin so sociable or downright _cheerful._ It was very unsettling.

They ordered a meal, and Remus thought he had better order as well, or people might notice. When his food arrived, he picked at it as he listened to the continuing conversation.

Severus finished his drink and asked, "So, why are you here, now, after so long? You could have written; it might have taken a few letters, but eventually you would have convinced me," he said. "It sounds as though you are quite happy in San Marino; why come back now?"

"Why?" The man sounded almost wounded at the question. He leaned forward, his face just inches from Severus's, and said, "For you, Severus, of course! Now that the Dark Lord is finally, truly gone, we are free! And after all these years apart, we can be together again!" He took hold of Severus's face and kissed him.

A jealous rage he hadn't known he was capable of surged up inside Remus, sending a red haze over his vision. His blood pounded in his ears, and he fought for breath, trying desperately to control himself.

 

* * *

Regulus kissed him gently at first, then swallowed a tiny sob as the kiss deepened and became passionate, almost desperate. Nineteen years of longing were in that kiss, and a plea for forgiveness, and cherished hopes and dreams of a future together. Severus was caught up in the emotions as well, his heart pounding as he remembered the frantic passion of their youth, the warm and tender nights together, trapped between love and terror as the Dark Lord's power loomed over them all. He remembered the chilly cemetery, and the cenotaph, and kissed this man, who was warm and real and alive and _here_...

And the image of Remus, kissing him madly in the alley, the night after Regulus's funeral, struck him right between the eyes.

He caught hold of Regulus's arms and gently pushed him away.

"Regulus, no," he said. He tried for a firm, impartial tone, but the words were tinged with sorrow and regret.

"Severus! Please," Regulus pleaded, his hands on Severus's shoulders.

Severus shook his head and sat back. "I can't, he said."

Regulus looked bleakly at him and slumped back into his own seat.

"It's too late," Severus said. "I--"

"There's someone else," Regulus said. "Now who's been leaving important details out of his letters?"

Severus grimaced at him. "Until the other day, I thought you _were_ him! That is, I thought he was my correspondent. It was...complicated."

"Do I know him?"

"Remus Lupin," Severus said. "We've been...involved, in one way or another, for years."

"The _werewolf?_ " Regulus's eyes widened as he stared in disbelief. "You're throwing me over for a werewolf? _You?_ And _THAT_ werewolf? God, Severus, are you mad? He tried to kill you!"

Severus snarled, "We were both young idiots and it was more than twenty years ago! And I am hardly 'throwing you over!' In case it had escaped your notice, you have been in hiding for _half of our lives!_ "

Regulus was shaking. "Severus, I love you! I've loved you all my life!"

"But you couldn't trust me enough to tell me you were alive?"

"I'm sorry! I was never cut out to be a hero, Severus! I did what I could to survive and to protect you from the consequences!" He caught Severus's hands and looked at him pleadingly. "Those letters were all I had, Severus. They were my lifeline, the one bit of you I still had, the thing that gave me reason to keep going. All I could do was write to you and read your words and hope that one day, we would be together again!" His eyes were bright with tears.

Severus felt emotion choking him. "I'm sorry, Reg," he said softly. "I can't throw away everything that has happened since you left; I can't just walk away from Remus and into your arms. There's history there, as much as yours and mine. Remus...cares deeply for me."

"Do you love him?" Regulus asked.

Severus opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He paused, considering the question.

 

* * *

 

Remus sat listening to the impassioned conversation with a horrid sick feeling in his belly and a jealous rage pounding in his head. He caught his breath as Severus told Regulus he was sorry, but it was too late for them. Severus's rejection was not as confident as he would have liked, but at least he was rejecting Regulus...Remus hoped. He swallowed bitter ale to ease the dryness in his throat and listened carefully to the Extendable Ear.

"...Remus...cares deeply for me."

"Do you love him?"

Severus had no answer.

Remus dropped his glass to the table and struggled to his feet, then hurried from the pub as fast as he could with tear-blurred eyes.

 

* * *

 

There was a clatter and minor commotion as the old wizard in the corner dropped his pint and scurried away. Severus turned to watch him go, then looked back to Regulus.

"Do you?" Regulus persisted. "Did...did you love _me?_ "

Severus sighed. "I'm not sure I understand the nature of love...but when you...died...I would have killed to avenge you; if I could have, I would have traded my life for yours. But don't you see? I would do the same for Remus, now. Is that love? Possessiveness? Madness? How should I know, Reg? How the bloody hell should _I_ know?"

Regulus was quiet for a moment. "You do love him," he said, finally, "You may not see it, but I can." He swallowed hard and took a quick sip of beer, coughing slightly to cover himself. His eyes were bright with unshed tears. "He's lucky. All I wanted...all I really _want_ is your happiness, Severus. I wish that meant you and I, together at last, but...if this is what makes you happy, then I'm...I'm glad."

He rose, leaned forward and kissed Severus again, a fleeting brush of lips. "I won't make a nuisance of myself - or any more of a fool than I already have." He caught up his cloak and cleared his throat again. "Be well, Severus." He threw the cloak over his shoulders and hurried from the pub.

Severus watched him go, his emotions in turmoil. It was too much to process, all at once. He wanted his calm and quiet life back, and he suddenly wished he had listened to Remus and refused the invitation.

 

* * *

 

Remus apparated home and banished the glamour, then began pacing. He felt as if his guts had been ripped out, and conflicting emotions had him wanting to tear Regulus's throat out with his bare fingers, or run off to a cave in the wilderness and howl for fifty years or so, just to get the grief out of his system.

He kept trying to tell himself that Severus had _told_ Regulus it was too late for them, but another inner voice taunted him, reminding him that Severus had had no reply when asked if he loved Remus. If he can't say it, _does_ he love you? Can he love you, now that Regulus is alive?

A distant memory surfaced, of Severus in a grimy alley, his head thrown back as Remus rubbed against him, kissed him...and Severus called him by another man's name. It hit Remus like a silver knife to the belly.

It's Regulus he's always loved. He had moved on, but I was always second-best, if that... God, what was I thinking? A broken-down werewolf with a child to raise... He doesn't love me...he's never loved me...and even if he stays with me now...he'll always love Regulus...

Remus dashed hot tears from his eyes and went looking for parchment and ink.

 

* * *

 

Severus wandered around Diagon Alley for a while, browsing in Flourish and Blott's for a bit and stopping by Slugg's and Jiggers' for a few items he needed for his current experiment. It was growing dark when he finally apparated home, suddenly anxious for Remus's comforting company. A nice dinner out, baklava for dessert, and a long, thorough shag sounded like just what he needed to recentre himself. He arrived on his front doorstep and was about to open the door, when he noticed a letter pushed under the edge of the mat.

He picked it up as he entered. It bore his name on the envelope, just "Severus," with no address, and must have been delivered by hand. He set it aside and went in to bathe and change for dinner. The clock was just chiming the half hour when he finished dressing, so he sat down to read the letter before Remus arrived.

 _My Dearest Severus,_

 _I was too worried to stay away, so I was at the Three Tuns today and overheard your discussion. I know you loved him, Severus; you were heart-broken when he died, and I think that grief has been with you ever since._

 _I could never be anything more than second-best for you. You shared your heart in those letters, all those years, and I see now that it was the letter-writer you loved, even though you thought it was I. Now that Regulus has returned, I won't stand in your way. I don't want you to feel you have any obligation to me; we never made any promises, Severus; you are free. I do love you, but your happiness is what I care most about, and that means being with the person you _do_ love._

Go to him, Severus. Be happy. From the bottom of my heart, I wish you all the joy in the world.

Love,

Remus

 

Severus stared at the letter in disbelief. What the hell was Remus saying? He read it again, trying to make sense of the words. If the idiot had been in the pub, he would have seen Regulus leave! Why had he...

Suddenly, he realized who the old wizard must have been, and why he had hurried from the pub so abruptly. Idiot! He threw the letter onto the table in a fury and rose, removing his nice outer robe and flinging it over a chair. He stormed off to his lab and slammed the door. A few hours alone with his potions _might_ help him calm down enough to deal with a moronic self-sacrificing werewolf who apparently got all his exercise jumping to conclusions!

He put in several hours of good work, mostly ingredient preparation, as he was quite in the mood for chopping, dicing, smashing and grinding various components. By the time he had the base for his new Clarity Compound seething in the cauldron, it was late. He adjusted the flame and set a time-spell on it, then locked up the lab and prepared for bed. His stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten, but that merely brought thoughts of the dinner plans Remus's letter had scuttled, which made him angry and upset all over again. He took his usual potions and washed them down with a brandy, and then went to bed and spent the night tossing and turning. His intermittent sleep was filled with unpleasant dreams.

In the morning, he ate dry toast and had a cup of tea, feeling much put upon at the lack of Remus's company - although the night had been much worse. He emptied his mailbox, incinerating the usual howlers and snorting at the latest ill-written threat from his usual semi-illiterate anonymous enemy.

He spent the day working in the lab, but found himself getting more and more irritated with each passing hour. Finally, he flung his dragon hide apron aside and stalked back to the cottage.

He wouldn't stand for it! He had a lifetime invested in this...whatever it was he and Remus shared, and he damned well wasn't going to let Remus cock it up! If Remus was going to be such a damned fool, going off on some misguided notion of bloody Gryffindor nobility, he was bloody well going to make him see sense!

He checked the time; it was just past five, a good time to catch Remus at the pub he frequented, across from the new Werewolf Outreach Office where he worked. They often met there for a drink when Remus finished the day's work, before deciding on dinner plans.

He pulled on a cloak and apparated into the alley at the side of the pub. He stormed down the alley, swerving to avoid a beggar woman who clutched at his cloak.

"Spare a sickle, sir? Spare a sickle for a poor old woman?" she whined, tugging at him with filthy clawed fingers.

Annoyed, he flung a handful of change at her. She let go of his cloak and grabbed - not for the coins, but seizing his hand with a mad cackle. He pulled back, reaching for his wand, but someone stepped up behind him and everything went black. He struggled, lashing out with feet and fists and clawing at his face to restore his vision. He felt his foot impact something vaguely squashy and heard a gratifying "OOMPH!" from one of his assailants, followed by a shriek of pain.

There were nails digging into his arms, and a stringy arm around his neck. He grabbed it, trying to jerk it free, and shouted _"Sectumsempra!"_

There was a screech and the hands and arm holding him jerked free. He tried to run, but something hit him hard against the side of his head. He fell sideways with a sickening lurch and knew no more.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

 

Remus had spent several very doleful days after he had left the letter on Severus's doorstep. He kept telling himself he had done the right thing, but as the third day passed by without so much as a word from Severus, he sank deeper and deeper into his misery. Severus must have been greatly relieved to be shut of him so easily, he thought, if he wouldn't even make the pretence of arguing against it.

He sighed heavily and tried to put himself into a better frame of mind, for Teddy's sake. He had never really thought about being a father; there were too many odds against it for a werewolf, for starters, but he was doing his best for Teddy. He loved the little lad dearly, and if it would not have broken Andromeda's heart, he would have been only too happy to have full custody.

As it was, though, their arrangement worked well. Andromeda kept him every other day, and they adjusted their schedules to suit one another. If Andi wanted to take a few days' vacation, Remus gladly took Teddy. If he had a particularly busy time at work, or wanted to spend a weekend with his lover...

He stopped at that thought. He wouldn't be asking Andi to take the boy for a long weekend any time soon, he thought sadly. He had hoped, once, that he and Severus might have raised Teddy together, but it was just as well that this had happened now, before Teddy was old enough to feel and remember the rejection and pain.

He put a bright face on over his aching heart and went to fetch Teddy from his grandmother.

With Teddy snugly bundled up against the cold, Remus apparated to Diagon Alley, to show him the fairy lights and other holiday decorations. He lifted the excited baby up into the charmed carrier atop his shoulders, so he could get a proper view of all the glittering excitement. Teddy squealed in delight at the dancing sweets in the window of Fortescue's and stared round eyed at the giant evergreen in front of Gringotts, covered in lighted candles and charmed glass ornaments that slowly floated from branch to branch.

Teddy's delight was infectious, and Remus found himself smiling as he ducked under a floating garland and into Madame Mellisande's Tea Shoppe to warm up a bit. He settled Teddy in a high chair with some animal crackers and a sippy cup of warm milk with pumpkin sugar and sat down beside him with a cup of hot cocoa. He was just getting pleasantly warm, watching Teddy crow at the parade of animal crackers marching around his tray, when the door swung open and Regulus entered.

Remus disliked thinking of himself as a beast, even on full-moon evenings, when the change was inevitable, but as he recognized Regulus, he felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle, and a purely animal urge to leap up and rip out the man's throat raced through his blood. He gripped the table, trying to regain control, but a deep growl escaped him anyway.

Teddy heard the sound and stopped playing with his crackers. His lower lip wobbled and his eyes welled up. He opened his mouth and began wailing.

Remus's blood lust vanished. He picked up the upset tot and held him, trying to soothe away the tears.

Regulus turned around at the sound of Teddy's cries and saw him. He stood very still for a moment, before steeling himself and approaching.

Remus promised himself that he would not kill the man in front of Teddy - but that was the only reason he didn't leap across the room and rip him apart with his bare hands.

"Remus?" Regulus asked, his voice shaky and uncertain. "Remus Lupin? It's...I'm Regulus Black, Sirius's brother."

"I know who you are, or who you _were_ ," Remus said bitterly, holding Teddy against his shoulder. "I have only one thing to say to you. Don't hurt him, or I'll kill you," he said, deadly serious.

Regulus stared at him. "Hurt...him? _Hurt_ him?" He shook his head, looking at Remus as if he were mad. "I would never hurt him, Lupin. All I want is for him to be happy."

Remus gave a short, bitter laugh. "That makes two of us. And I ever learn that he's unhappy, because of anything you've done, believe me, I will find you."

Regulus was looking puzzled. Without invitation, he sat down and regarded Remus and Teddy for a moment before replying. "I could say the same to you. I wondered, you know, why _you_ , but he seemed so certain...and now I see that there _is_ something you've given him that I can't. A family." He picked up a shortbread giraffe and turned it over in his hands. "I never knew that was anything he wanted," he admitted.

It was Remus's turn to stare. "What are you talking about, Black? If Severus felt that way about Teddy...and me, he'd be here now, wouldn't he?"

"Well, I hardly expected he'd spend every last moment at your side, Lupin, but if that's how you measure devotion, I supposed you'd better let him know!"

Teddy hiccoughed and began to drool on Remus's shoulder. Gently, he put the drowsy infant back in the high chair. "Regulus...where is Severus now?" he asked, a feeling of alarm creeping over him.

"How should I know? I haven't seen him since Thursday afternoon, when I realized he was so besotted with you that he would never be happy with me! I kissed him good-bye and left him in the pub! You tell _me_ where he is!" Regulus said angrily.

Remus paled. "I was there, but...I left before you did. Oh, God...I sent him a note, saying...Oh, God, I'm an idiot! He must think..."

"Do you mean to tell me you haven't seen him in three days?" Regulus demanded.

Remus's look of horror was answer enough. "He would have said something by now. A fire call or a howler - _something_! Oh, God - something's happened to him...I've got to get Teddy home." He stood quickly and plucked Teddy out of the chair.

"I'm coming with you," Regulus said.

Remus just gave a sharp nod and suffered Regulus to take hold of his arm as he apparated to Andromeda's house.

Regulus waited outside while he took the baby in and explained to Andi that something had come up. He came back out and faced Regulus. "We'll go to Severus's cottage. Maybe...maybe he's just in a sulk. He could sulk for England, that one," Remus said, trying to smile, but not succeeding very well.

"Or perhaps he's busy with a potion," Regulus suggested as he took Remus's arm. "You know how he gets."

"A definite possibility," Remus agreed. He apparated them to the walkway outside Severus's cottage.

The curtains were open, but the windows were dark. Despite the lightly falling snow, there was no smoke emerging from the chimney.

Remus's throat was dry as he unlocked the door with Severus's password. "Lumos," he managed to croak out, and the light from his wand illuminated the deserted sitting room. "Severus? Severus!"

Regulus lit the nearest lamps as they listened for a reply. Remus led the way through the cottage, but they found no one there. The bed had not been slept in recently, and a dirty teacup sat on the table along with a petrified slice of toast.

"Where is his lab?" Regulus asked, his own alarm evident in his voice.

"In the back," Remus said, leading the way out through the kitchen and across to the half-converted cow barn Severus currently used for his experiments. The same password opened the door, and they stepped into the icy lab. Everything appeared to be in order, except for the frost-rimed cauldron sitting over a cold fire ring. The potion inside it was frozen solid. There was no trace of Severus.

They went back into the cottage. Remus began pacing back and forth, working himself into a frenzy. There was a sudden rattle, and Regulus jumped. "What was that?"

Remus said irritably, "It's just the mail-- Wait! The mail!" He sprang to the fireplace, where the mailbox was spewing steam and fairly bulging at the seams. He tapped it with his wand and watched as the Howlers were destroyed, then took the rest of the mail from the nearly-full box. "He wouldn't have read these yet," Remus muttered. "Where...? Here, sort through these," he instructed, handing the new mail to Regulus and searching the room for any older missives.

He found the letter he had written Severus lying on the end table. It had been opened and slightly crushed, then smoothed, as if Severus had thought to discard it, then changed his mind. He hunted for any other correspondence and turned up a bill from an apothecary on the writing desk, an invitation to the International Potions Symposium in Madrid tucked under the brandy decanter, and on the floor, beside the wastepaper basket, one anonymous threatening letter.

"Is his mail always like this?" Regulus asked. "There are as many marriage proposals as anonymous threats in this batch."

"Typical," Remus said shortly. "Here, look at this. Is there another one from the same writer, do you think? Check the penmanship and the spelling."

Regulus flipped through the anonymous letters and found one almost identical to the one Remus held.

"They were serious," Remus said grimly. "I kept telling him to turn these into the Ministry, but he wouldn't take it seriously. God, if they've taken him...three days..." He closed his eyes, clenching his fists against the horrible images that flashed through his mind.

"It might only be two," Regulus said thoughtfully. He held up the newer letter. "This was posted Friday morning; it would have arrived that afternoon. If they'd already taken him, they'd hardly have written him another letter."

"I've got to find him," Remus said wildly. He wanted to scream. "Somehow. We'll go to the Ministry; there's got to be a way...maybe they've received a ransom note..."

"I have a better idea," Regulus said. He opened his collar and pulled out a long silver chain, with an amulet of copper wire and gemstones hanging from it. "I made Severus a talisman some years ago; he said it had saved his life. This one is its twin and I attuned them to each other, just in case. If he's still wearing his, or has it with him, I can find him."

Remus swallowed hard. "Please..."

Regulus put his hand on Remus's arm. "I know. We'll find him, Remus; we'll bring him home."

 

* * *

 

When Severus came to, for a few muzzy moments, he thought Remus had perhaps had a particularly playful inspiration. He was blindfolded and bound spread-eagle to what felt like a grating. What disabused him of the notion and dashed all hopes of a notably erotic evening were the facts that he was still dressed, the rope binding him was very scratchy, and his head hurt abominably. His joints were stiff enough that he must have been bound there for quite some time. This did not bode well.

"Allie! He's wakin' up!"

"Well, get busy, then!"

"I'm hurt, I am! My bollocks hurt like bloody hell! The bleedin' tosser kicked me! Can't you do something?"

"I've got problems of my own, Mickey! Look what he did to my arm! It won't stop bleedin'!"

Severus frowned as he listened, trying to identify the voices. He knew he had heard them before, but the names wouldn't come to him. He pulled at the bindings on his wrists, but they were secure. He murmured a spell to cut through them, but nothing happened. There must be some form of ward in place that was keeping him from doing magic.

The one called Allie made a hissing sound. "See here? It's soaked through the bandages, and that ruddy healin' charm of yours is no damned good! Make him fix it!"

"What, give him a wand? Don't make me laugh!"

"No, you idiot!" There was the sound of someone being slapped.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?"

"Make him tell _us_ how to fix it, you great git!"

"Oof," said Mickey. "All right, I'm goin'! An' I'm goin' to give him a workin' over for my achin' knackers!"

Severus heard him approaching, then felt a sharp jab to his stomach. He gasped.

"Oy! You tell Allie how to stop that bleedin' curse you put on her!" The rush of air warned him, but the slap to his face stung anyway. "Now, d'ya hear me?"

"Mickey! Tell him I'll cut him if he don't tell us!"

"Well, tell him yourself, if you don't like the way I'm doin' it!"

"Shut it and tell him! Or I'll fix it so you won't have to worry over your nuts ever again!"

Mickey swore and punched him in the stomach, knocking the air out of him.

"Come on, Snape!" Slap! "Tell us!" Slap! "Tell us _now_!" Slap!

Severus sighed. "You need dittany," he said flatly. "Essence of murtlap for the pain, and blood-replenishing potion."

"Wait, wait!" Allie screeched. "Do you remember all that, Mickey?"

"Me? It's your ruddy arm! Take notes, why don't you?"

"How'm I supposed to write with my arm bleeding like this?"

"Got two arms, don't you?"

Severus sighed. It was going to be a very long night.

 

* * *

 

The two kept arguing for what seemed like hours, ranging over a wide variety of topics. During a brief lull, Severus asked what they wanted with him. Mickey began a litany of his sins, beginning with his betrayal of the Dark Lord and wrapping up, somewhat illogically, with their particular plight - penniless, hiding from the Ministry, and without friends or any prospects.

He finally recognized them from Mickey's whinging screed. Amycus and Alecto Carrow. He had thought them either dead or locked away in Azkaban. Remus had been right, he had not taken his enemies seriously enough, it seemed.

Mickey slapped, punched and kicked him a while after finishing the list of complaints, but Severus had suffered far worse. He endured it, treating them to the occasional gasp or grunt of pain, as he was mildly concerned about Alecto. As he recalled, she was more inventive than her brother, with a nastier sort of imagination. He preferred not to provoke her to direct action.

He had high hopes that the constantly bleeding wound would weaken her considerably over the next few hours. He kept flexing his fingers and toes, hoping to preserve the circulation in his extremities.

Eventually, Alecto called her brother over and muttered at him, too low for Severus to overhear. Amycus left shortly afterwards, leaving Severus alone with her.

"When Mickey gets back, you're going to show me this cure, Snape," she said. "And if you try anything, I'll skin you alive and dump a sack of fire slugs over you."

Amycus returned in what seemed like an hour. "He didn't like it, but I convinced him," he told his sister. "Here's the stuff you wanted."

"Good. Now, set it up over there, then bring me that traitor."

There was a good deal of clattering and clanging, but eventually Amycus came over and cut him loose. Amycus wrenched his wrists behind him, retied them, and dragged him across the room.

"Take off the blindfold," Alecto said.

"But he'll see us! He'll know who we are!"

"Don't be daft! How's he going to brew if he can't see?"

"But Allie! He'll tell them who we are, and they'll come after us!" Amycus sounded almost terrified.

"Don't worry," Severus said mildly, "I'm sure your sister plans to kill me long before I can give any sort of information to the Ministry."

A thin hand slapped him sharply. "Shut your mouth!"

"Allie, that's not true, is it?"

"Mickey, just you do as you're told and you won't have nothin' to worry about. Take off the blindfold."

Rough hands jerked the cloth away from his face. Severus blinked. Their fugitive lifestyle had not been kind to the Carrows. Although her clothing was a bit cleaner, Alecto looked very much as she had when posing as a beggar in the alley. Amycus was no better off.

Amycus dragged him over to the table, where several bundles of fresh and dried herbs were laid out, along with a bottle of blood replenisher and six different murtlap preparations. Severus arched an eyebrow at Amycus.

"Didn't say what kind," he muttered sullenly.

"Failed our potions OWL, did we?" Severus asked wryly. He inspected the collection as best he could without touching anything. "There are two different varieties of dittany here, in three forms. None of them is the one you need. The blood replenisher is correct, although an inferior brand, and you'll want to use the Essence of Murtlap, rather than the dried, powdered tentacles or the extract."

Alecto kicked at her brother. "Why'd you bring the wrong dittany?"

"It's all dittany! He swore!" Amycus cringed away from her.

" _Oreganium Dictamnus,_ Dittany of Crete," Severus intoned. "What you have here is _Dictamnus Albus,_ which would be most efficacious if you happened to suffer from gastric complaints, and _Cunila Mariana_ or False Dittany, which is better suited to bringing on a sweat, if you are fevered. Neither of them will do much for your bleeding."

Alecto swore and snatched the bottle of blood replenisher from the table. She had the cork out and was drinking it down before Severus could warn her. The seeping wound on her arm suddenly spurted blood half-way across the room. She screamed in alarm, then clutched her nose, which was also streaming blood.

"Allie!" Amycus cried in alarm.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Severus said in disgust. "Quick, you idiot! The powdered murtlap, there! Give her a spoonful in a glass of water to bring down the blood pressure!"

Amycus finally managed to listen and follow Severus's directions, and Alecto's bleeding slowed to its previous pace. He was tempted to tell the idiot that more powdered murtlap would slow the bleeding even farther, but decided against it. Amycus might react badly to his sister slipping into a coma.

Amycus tied his ankles together and threw him into what had once been a wine cellar, locking him in.

Severus tried again to cast a spell, any spell, but found himself still blocked.

He curled up as best he could against one of the old, dusty wine racks and dozed.

 

* * *

 

He had been right about Alecto's nasty imagination.

Amycus had hauled him out of the cellar, presumably the next day, and brought him back to the room he had been in before. Alecto had apparently located the correct form of dittany, as the relatively clean white bandage on her arm showed no traces of bleeding through.

At her direction, Amycus bound him to the grate again, stretching his arms and legs wide.

Alecto stepped up to him, tapping her wand in one hand. "You always was above yourself, Snape. Thought you were so great - _Headmaster Snape!_ " She spat at him. "And then, what did you do? You betrayed our Lord! After all he done for you! Me and Amycus, we served him loyal and true! But _you_ got the posh job and _you_ got the fancy quarters, and all along you was a traitor!" She flicked her wand at him, and a fiery lash of power licked out from it, striking him like a whip.

He hissed in pain.

"Mickey and me, we've been done wrong and we're going to have it out of your hide, we are!" She lashed him again. "You're going to learn your place, Snape. I spent too many days beggin' for knuts on the street, these last months; before I'm done, you're going to be the one beggin'!"

The lash caught him across the face and he gasped.

"Oh yes, you're going to _beg!_ " she promised him nastily.

 

* * *

 

Alecto had a surprisingly long attention span. She amused herself at his expense for ages, until Severus's robes were slashed and singed ribbons hanging from a bleeding and scorched body. He hung from his bound arms and panted for breath as she considered her next move.

"Allie?"

"What is it now, Mickey?" she sounded quite annoyed at the interruption.

"I'm tryin' to write this ransom note. We agreed on a 'undred thousand galleons, right?"

"Right-- What are you laughing at?" she demanded, whirling back to Severus, who was chuckling weakly.

"A hundred thousand galleons?" He snorted. "Who do you suppose...would pay...that much...for me?"

"You shut it! Mickey, you write it the way I said! A 'undred thousand! That's enough to set us up proper, somewhere _warm!_ "

"But, Allie, who do I write it to? What if he's right?"

"I don't care! That's how much I want. There's the Potter kid - he's rolling in galleons!"

"Harry Potter? You're daft! You want to take _him_ on, after what happened to the Dark Lord?" Amycus was aghast.

"Well...the Ministry, then! Shacklebolt's confisticated enough from our old crowd that he ought to be able to cough up a bit for old Snape, here, eh?"

Severus laughed outright at that. "The Ministry...in its beneficence...has granted me a pension of twenty galleons a month. Your ransom would equate to over 400 years of that pension. I guarantee that the cost-benefit analysis will not be favourable."

Alecto stared at him.

"They won't pay," he said more plainly.

 

* * *

 

Remus clung to Regulus's arm as Regulus closed his eyes and traced a finger over the copper whorls and twists of the talisman, over and over and over. Several of the gems began to glow, and Regulus slowly nodded. "It's not too far...somewhere abandoned...he's alive; I can feel the resonance of the charms." His finger went around and around one particular loop of wire. Golden sparkles began following his fingertip, until the talisman was all alight with a golden gleam. "I think I've got it," Regulus said. "Hang on!"

Remus held tight as they apparated, coming to a stumbling landing outside a broken down manor house. Regulus led him around a corner. "He's inside...and downstairs, it feels like." They found a door hanging off its hinges, close to the area Regulus where thought Severus was being held, and slipped inside, wands drawn.

The manor seemed deserted, and from appearances, had been that way a long time. They made their way down a chilly, dark hallway and found a staircase leading down. Descending, they caught the sound of voices below them.

"...he ought to be able to cough up a bit for old Snape, here, eh?" a scratchy-voiced woman said nastily.

Remus's heart leapt as he heard Severus laughing painfully.

"The Ministry...in its beneficence...has granted me a pension of twenty galleons a month. Your ransom would equate to over 400 years of that pension. I guarantee that the cost-benefit analysis...will not be favourable."

Regulus clutched his arm. They continued creeping down the stairs.

"They won't pay," Severus said, as if speaking to a particularly dull First Year.

"Well _someone's_ going to pay!" the woman screeched. There was a sizzling, popping sound, then the hiss and crack of a whip. Severus drew in a sharp breath.

"I'll have you beggin' yet, you bloody traitor!"

The whip sizzled and cracked again. Severus gave a gasp of pain.

"You'd...far better just...kill me outright," he gasped out. "You're going to die...anyway...may as well be... Aah! ...hanged for a...sheep as a lamb!"

At the bottom of the stairs, Remus looked about and quickly spotted Severus hanging from the crossbars of an iron gate that must once have closed off stores of some kind. He was bruised, bloody and burnt in spots, but - thank God! - alive and conscious. A squat, angry witch in ragged robes paced in front of him, lashing him with a fiery whip from her wand.

She snarled at Severus and drew back her hand to strike again.

With a roar of fury, Remus leapt forward. _"STUPEFY!"_ he shouted, casting the spell at her head.

Severus's head snapped up at the sound. Remus ran to him as the witch fell.

"Allie! No! _Avada--_ "

The hoarse cry came from behind him, but before Remus had a chance to move or defend himself, there was another shout.

 _"STUPEFY!"_

A heavy body crashed to the floor. Regulus cautiously stepped out of the shadows, wand high.

Remus swallowed hard and nodded in appreciation. Hesitantly, he asked, or perhaps offered, "Help me with him?"

Regulus gave him a tentative smile that faded quickly as he looked at Severus's abused form hanging from the gate.

Severus managed to raise his head as they loosed the bindings on his arms. He blinked slowly, looking from Remus to Regulus and back again, then collapsed into their arms.

 

* * *

 

When Severus awoke, he was in his own bed. He had a number of vague aches and pains here and there, but the searing agony of the burning whip-strokes was gone, as was the wrenching pain in his arms. He stretched experimentally and was relieved to find his limbs all responding properly.

"He's waking," an almost-familiar voice called.

"I'll be right there!" That was Remus, he was certain.

He blinked carefully, then opened his eyes. The room was dimly lit, with candles on the mantle and a glowing bank of coals in the fireplace. Footsteps approached, and there were two men bending over him, one on either side of his bed. He blinked again, slightly confused.

"Remus," he said. It came out in a harsh croak, but Remus took his right hand and squeezed it, then brought it up and held it to his chest, bending over to kiss it.

Severus swallowed painfully and turned his head to the left. He blinked again in surprise, but the image remained the same. Regulus bent over him, biting his lip in concern. "Reg-ulus..." Severus looked to Remus, who had his head bowed over Severus's hand, then back again. "How?" he asked.

Regulus took his other hand. "We ran into each other in Diagon Alley and figured out what had happened. We decided to look for you together."

Remus rested his cheek against the back of Severus's hand. "Thank Merlin, Regulus has a talisman attuned to the one he made for you. He used it to find you."

Regulus continued, "Remus got that vicious little bint, Alecto--"

"And Regulus knocked out her brother just as he was trying to kill me," Remus added. "They're in Azkaban now, awaiting trial. Kingsley was glad to hear you were all right, and he's quite delighted to have the Carrows in custody. Apparently, after Minerva left them hanging in Ravenclaw, a stray spell from the final battle must have freed them, and they decided to run for it rather than get involved in the fighting. They've been on the run ever since."

Severus nodded weakly. "How...long?"

"It's been two days since we brought you home, Severus," Remus said.

"The Healer put you into a deep healing trance; she said you needed the rest almost as much as the healing," Regulus added.

Severus closed his eyes.

Remus patted his hand and eased it back down by his side. "Rest, Severus. We're here. Everything's going to be all right."

 

* * *

 

When he woke again, he felt almost normal. It was dark outside the window, and he had no proper sense of what time or day it was.

Remus and Regulus brought in a tray and sat on either side of the bed as he ate. In bits and pieces, they told him the whole story of finding each other and how each had thought he had stepped aside to give Severus a chance for happiness with the one he really loved.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Gryffindors and their 'noble sacrifices,'" he muttered. Turning to Regulus, he said, "And as for you, I thought you would have been back in San Marino by now."

Regulus's eyes glinted as he turned away. "I'm leaving," he said. "I said I would be content with your happiness, Severus, and...I am."

Severus was surprised at the pang he felt as Regulus turned to go, but Remus spoke before he could, reaching across the bed to catch Regulus by the sleeve. "Regulus, wait. I think it's clear we both love him; now is not the time to ask him to choose--"

Severus again tried to get a word in edgewise, but Regulus beat him to it. "He _has_ chosen, Remus. As I told you before, he told me I was too late, at dinner that night. I honour his decision, and I wish you both--"

Severus marshalled all his strength, pulled himself upright and shouted, **"If you two are _QUITE_ through deciding what I'm to do with my life..."**

Remus and Regulus both jumped, then looked at him in abashed surprise.

"Thank you," he said quietly. He reached out his hands to them, clasping their hands and pulling them close to him. "I have seen the worst of two wars. I have seen horrors unimaginable and watched those I cared for die, some at my own hands." He paused, closing his eyes at the memories. With a long, slow breath, he continued, "Despite Potter's grandiose statements, I am no hero. And now that the Dark Lo-- ...that _Voldemort_ is dead, and unaccountably we have all survived, I find that I have had enough of death and pain and war and sacrifice. I want very little. I merely wish to get on with a peaceful, uneventful life. I care..."

He stopped and tried to swallow, damning the inexplicable tightness of his throat and the stinging sensation in his eyes. "I...love...both of you. I've no explanation for it; it simply _is_. I loved you, Regulus, when we were both at school, and when I thought you had died, I felt as if the world had been torn apart. Your letters...as fate would have it, I convinced myself they were from Remus. And you were right - they _were_ a lifeline, something to cling to, even though I cursed my foolishness and weakness for allowing myself that indulgence."

He looked from Regulus to Remus. Their faces were both tense and their eyes brimming with tears. "Remus, even before Regulus and I were together, there was something about you that drew me. When we first...well, after Regulus died, I hated myself for wanting you, but there was nothing I could do about it. Even though you didn't write the letters, every time we were together, you touched my soul in ways I never dreamed of, and the madness somehow turned to love. I was in love with two men and never knew it until now."

He turned their hands over and gently kissed each palm. "I know you love me, and I thank you both, for the gifts of your love. But I cannot and will not weigh and measure those gifts and pick one over the other. I think it would be best for all of us if I went awa--"

"Severus Snape, don't you _DARE!_ " Remus spat at him, his eyes burning bright.

"Absolutely _NOT!_ " Regulus agreed emphatically.

Their hands clenched on his, hard enough to make the bones ache. He winced and then blinked at the sight of Remus and Regulus joining their free hands, forming a triangle with him at the apex. They looked at each other and seemed to come to some unspoken understanding.

"Severus, maybe none of us has to make a choice, or a sacrifice," Remus said carefully.

Regulus darted a glance at him, understanding dawning on his face.

Severus stared at Remus, certain he could not be hearing him right.

"We both love you...you love both of us...that ought to balance, arithmantically," Remus said. "If Regulus and I could..."

"...could come to care for each other?" Regulus asked, quietly.

Remus nodded. "You care deeply for the one I love; that's a start."

Regulus nodded, "I feel the same. If...if we didn't have to worry about being rejected..."

"We could _try_ ," Remus said.

Their hands all clenched tightly. In unspoken accord, Remus and Regulus both leaned in and kissed Severus on the cheeks. Remus moved and kissed him on the mouth, as Regulus buried his face in Severus's neck and kissed him there.

Severus felt far more aroused than ought to have been possible for a man just out of a healing trance. His cock throbbed to hopeful attention, and he groaned softly as Remus turned his attention to his neck and Regulus captured his lips.

They pulled back, leaving him panting, and slowly kissed each other. It was a gentle brush of lips at first, then deepened as Regulus parted his lips and Remus pressed forward. Severus watched them, his own arousal mounting at the sight of his lover and his first lover sharing a passionate kiss.

He tugged at their hands, pulling them down onto the bed on either side of him. Remus drew his wand and Regulus yelped softly as clothing and bedding writhed and squirmed, slithering this way and that and tumbling them all into a confused pile before rolling away, leaving all three of them naked on the big bed.

Severus shivered in anticipation as they put their arms around him and began kissing him again, wherever they could reach. Hands and mouths were everywhere, touching, caressing, tasting, until Severus was lost in a whirl of sensation. They were both gentle with him, as if he might break, but Severus needed to feel the reality of their bodies, Remus's strength and passion, Regulus's deft and decisive touch. He clasped Remus around the waist, pulling him close, and reached back to wrap his other arm around Regulus, awkwardly pressing him into his back.

They seemed to understand his need without words. Remus kissed him again, then shifted, and somehow they were all twisting around, until Regulus lay facing Severus, and Remus was spooned close behind him, his erection rubbing against the cleft of Severus's arse.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Remus murmured in his ear.

Severus tilted his head back for a deep kiss. "Yes...God, yes! I want to feel you both...to know...to know you're here...you're both real..."

Regulus gave a strangled sob and spread his legs, pulling Severus tight up against him, so that their cocks rubbed together. Remus bit down on his shoulder and slid slippery fingers down along his crack, teasing him open and slipping them inside.

Severus groaned at the delicious, familiar feeling mingled with the newness of Regulus and almost frightening intimacy of being pressed between the two of them. He slid a hand down between himself and Regulus and wrapped it around both their cocks, murmuring, _"Lubricus!"_

Remus slid his fingers back and forth, pressing against Severus's prostate and sending a burst of stars across his vision. He gasped and began stroking. Regulus groaned in appreciation and wrapped his hand around Severus's. Their hot, slippery cocks slid against one another as their hands moved up and down. Remus slid his fingers out and replaced them with his cock, sliding into Severus's welcoming tight heat. Severus moaned at the overwhelming pleasure and pressed back, trying to get Remus as deep as possible.

Regulus threw his head back and gasped out a spell Severus didn't recognize, but suddenly the three of them were suspended a few inches off the bed, floating on a cushion of air. Remus groaned and bit down on Severus's shoulder, sucking hard. Regulus arched and pulled his legs back, then pulled Severus's hand away and guided his cock down to his opening.

The three of them rolled slightly in mid-air, but Severus found himself pressing into Regulus's stretched and prepared passage, as Remus sped his thrusts. With another roll and twist, they were all joined. Regulus's eyes rolled back in his head as he gasped in pleasure. Severus was caught up in the flood of sensation - Regulus pressed up against his chest and surrounding him, gripping him from tip to root - Remus snug against his back, thrusting deep inside him. Their arms and legs were so entangled it was hard for Severus to tell where his body ended and his lovers' began. He began stroking Regulus again and felt another hand - Remus's - cover his own and drive the pace.

Regulus wrapped his legs around Severus's hips, gasping as he arched to meet each thrust. Severus bucked between Regulus and Remus, moving in counterpoint to Remus's tempo, faster and faster, harder, harder, until his body tensed, achingly tight. He threw his head back onto Remus's shoulder, as he shattered into orgasm, every muscle shuddering as he came, pulse after pulse flooding into Regulus.

Remus and Regulus kept moving against him as the shuddering climax went on and on. Remus snapped his hips in harder and faster, shifting until he was hitting Severus's pulsing prostate on every stroke.

Regulus clung to them both, thrusting his hips to keep his cock sliding through the cage of Severus's and Remus's fingers, even as Severus's cock was spurting deep inside him. Remus cried out hoarsely and twisted to capture Severus's mouth in a savage kiss.

Regulus's fingers clenched hard on Severus's arms. He shouted and came, spurting between them, come gushing over their joined hands. Remus thrust his tongue into Severus's mouth, drove in one last time and came as well, nearly sobbing with release.

They clung together, riding out the spasms, until Regulus's eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp. Their entangled bodies fell onto the bed and bounced lightly, and all three collapsed into a sweaty, sated pile.

Remus gently rolled Severus onto his back, off of Regulus, and wearily summoned the counterpane, draping it over the three of them. He nudged Severus toward the centre of the bed, draped himself half over him and collapsed again.

Regulus was snoring lightly. Severus was still panting, but felt his heart rate gradually slowing. He managed to put one arm around Remus, who made a pleased little snort.

"I love you," he whispered against the tangled tawny hair.

"I know," Remus mumbled.

The clock on the mantle began to chime. Severus listened as it chimed the hour. "Midnight," he said softly.

"S'Chris'mas Eve," Remus mumbled against his chest. "Happy Chris'msss, Sev'rus."

Severus felt Regulus stir, roll over and snuggle against his side. He stroked Remus's hair. God only knew if this would work out or end in disaster, but for now...it felt... _right_. He kissed Remus's forehead and held him close. "Happy Christmas, Remus."

Exhausted, slightly sore, but surrounded by warmth and love, he drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

The End


End file.
